


Lord of Silver Snow

by Spaceelf



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dragon Seteth (Fire Emblem), Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Porn With Plot, Puberty, Purring, Sexual Frustration, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Slow Burn, Wet Dream, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:02:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 48,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26590333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spaceelf/pseuds/Spaceelf
Summary: Canon Divergence:  Flayn is Seteth's doting mother (role switch for lettuce duo).  Seteth is the leader of the Officer Academy's fourth house:  The Ashen Wolves.  The Ashen Wolves are representative of the Church (and official, not living in Abyss!).  It's time Seteth gets recognition as the lord of the Silver Snow route.Seteth has come out of hiding with his mother to live in the safety of Garreg Mach.  As the leader of the Ashen Wolves, Seteth is set to inherit a leading role in the church's future.Byleth, a young mercenary, never expected to end up as a professor at the Officer's Academy.  She also never expected to butt heads with a young lord, either.As their fates intertwine, will they survive to lead Fodlan's future?They end up fucking.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Seteth
Comments: 232
Kudos: 124





	1. The Monastery

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Auron_Kale for this lovely idea!
> 
> Eventual smut, but let's build up first!
> 
> Seteth, while centuries old and out of hiding, still looks as if he is nineteen. Dragon puberty is gonna hit. (They probably won't end up fucking til post timeskip because I'm really not into that but there will be lots of tension and a very frustrated young lord Seteth!)  
> Byleth's 21st birthday will be right after the semester starts in fall.  
> This story will loosely follow the canon timeline.

It was a long time before Flayn was ready to move her and her son out from isolation. Rhea welcomed them with open arms, and with a familiar face around, she felt safer. Allowing her son to lead the Church’s own house, the Ashen Wolves, wasn’t exactly part of her plan. Yet the young lord took on the mantle of his own will, eager to prove himself.

While the Golden Deer, Blue Lions, and Black Eagles were all set to inherit the future of their respective territories, the Ashen Wolves were destined to lead the Church and diplomacy between them all. Most of the Ashen Wolves couldn’t really claim home to any of the territories, and the Church took them in under the charge. Often students in this house were raised within the church as orphans or refugees.

And though Flayn, Seteth’s doting mother, was ever present, he managed to fit in perfectly with his peers, bearing the white cape and sash of the house leader.

Out on an early mission with Edelgard, Claude, and Dimitri, the leaders of the other houses, Seteth found himself cornered with his comrades. Bandits surrounded them, closing in. He hadn’t faced such a dire situation since--

A rugged voice called behind them. A man in orange charged in on his horse, swinging his lance to keep the bandits at bay. Following like a shadow, a young woman trailed him, cutting down foes with her sword.

“Are you kids alright?” He greeted.  
Seteth growled at the stranger, “We are fine. Identify yourselves!”  
“Whoa Seteth, these people just came to our rescue. We’ll have time for introductions later.” Claude butted in.  
“Let’s get through this, alive.” Edelgard nodded.

“Please, help us.” Dimitri turned to the woman.

She nodded, and she and the man engaged with the enemy, felling the bandits easily. She was deft with a blade. Seteth determined he would rather not reckon with her nor the man. They knocked back the bandits until they retreated into the shadows of the woods.

“Hey, thanks for that. You really saved our hides.” Claude beamed.

Seteth scoffed at the Golden Deer, who was ever the optimist.

“I don’t think they’ll be back.” Edelgard nodded.

“We were separated from the knights. I am truly grateful you have come.” Dimitri gave a small bow.

“The knights?” Jeralt asked, then groaned. “Aw, don’t tell me you’re with the cult of Seiros.”

“Excuse me, I think you mean the church.” Seteth sheathed his sword. If he were wielding an axe or lance, they wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place. But no, he just had to focus on improving…

“Right, right.” The man grumbled.

There was a howl as a bandit charged out from the woods, readying his axe to strike. He lunged at Seteth and there was a shift in the air. Byleth sprang out of nowhere, countering the attack and disarming the man, before running him through. Seteth froze. He had never seen someone move so fast. She  _ saved  _ him.

“Let’s get out of here and get you four back to the knights.” The man sighed. “By the way, my name’s Jeralt.”  
“Jeralt, the Blade Breaker? Is that really you?” Alois’s voice boomed behind him. “Goddess, it really is!”

“Alois,” Jeralt gave a somewhat defeated smile. “Never thought I’d see you again.”  
“I’m following in your footsteps as captain of the knights!” Alois puffed out his chest. “And who is this?” He waved to the woman.  
“Oh, this is my daughter, Byleth.” Jeralt introduced her.  
“You had a daughter? Well I guess it has been quite a while since you left the monastery. It is a pleasure to meet you, Byleth.” Alois inclined his head. “Will you be returning with us to Garreg Mach?”  
“I suppose I don’t have much of a choice now.” Jeralt grumbled, walking with him. As Alois and Jeralt caught up, Dimitri, Edelgard, and Claude trailed behind, each of the other leaders fawning over Byleth after her show of skill. Seteth held back, watching them from a distance. He already had trouble warming up to the other students after a life of caution and hiding with his mother, he wasn’t ready to trust a random stranger.

The other young lords were begging her to lend her strength to their forces. He was already wary, each of them seemed to have their own design for the future of Fodlan. Whether or not they had everyone’s best interests in mind remained to be seen. As far as he was concerned, he was the oldest and wisest of the house leaders by far, and his hotheadedness gave him the perfect facade of any nineteen year old.

“Hey, why don’t you introduce yourself?” Claude hung back to walk in time with Seteth. “Something wrong?”  
“I am not so easily swayed by fancy bladework.” Seteth clenched his fists at his sides.  
“Uh huh.” Claude doubted, folding his arms behind his head as he strolled along. “You weren’t so quick to trust me either.”  
“I still do not trust you, Claude. Anyone with half a brain would agree with me.” Seteth gritted out. Claude merely laughed.

Byleth glanced over her shoulder at them, smiling and waving. Her smile was beautiful, and Seteth caught himself staring, his cheeks flushing. He looked away with a harsh “Hmph.”


	2. Ashen Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth is appointed professor at the Officer's Academy. Now she must pick a house to teach and guide through the term...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seteth is an angy boy
> 
> and I love it he's gonna get so mad WHOOOO
> 
> I love the suggestions so far and I will do my best to incorporate them! Please always suggest more!
> 
> There will be plenty of tension and flirting before the timeskip on the student's part, but Byleth is going to be oblivious. She's like "I can't cross that line, they're all just super excited and friendly!" OuO

Flayn furrowed her brow. “Rhea, we don’t know anything about Miss Eisner’s qualifications other than she is the daughter of the Blade Breaker.”  
“After her actions in saving the house leaders, including your son, I believe she is more than qualified.” Rhea replied.

Flayn inhaled, then smiled, turning to Byleth, “I am grateful you have saved Seteth. Well then, Welcome, professor.”

Rhea addressed Byleth, “There are four houses in the Officer’s Academy. Each is led by a student, and guided by a faculty member. Since our last professor ran off during the latest attack, we were left with only Manuela, Hanneman, and Jeritza. Since you are our newest addition, you may pick which house you wish to teach, though you will often offer guidance to all students here at the monastery.”

Byleth’s stomach was still somersaulting from the initial shock. She and her father exchanged a wary look. Jeralt sighed.  
“Well, they do want me back to help out.” He grumbled.

“If you’d like, you can go meet some of the students and let me know which house you’d like to teach after.” Rhea suggested.  
Byleth nodded. She left to wander the monastery, exploring the grounds and meeting the students.

Edelgard was cordial, and intense. A fire in her eyes that Byleth had to admire. As present as her shadow, Hubert loomed, watching Byleth’s every move. He was unsettling, and while she was fond of the other Black Eagles students, she didn’t think her personality would mesh with them.

The Golden Deer were next, a wonderfully colorful bunch. Byleth adored Claude’s wit and charm, and considered them. An easygoing group that faced their own challenges, but was delightfully up to the task. Leonie, adamant to train and follow in Jeralt’s footsteps was surprised to meet Byleth, not knowing of her existence after idolizing Jeralt. It put her off and they were on the wrong foot, but Byleth hoped that could change.

The Blue Lions were mostly nobles, esteemed individuals. Dimitri was their leader, an overtly formal young man who flushed and stumbled over his words when talking to Byleth. He was sweet, but Byleth wasn’t sure if she could handle being in the company of so many who were raised a world apart from her.  
Then, there were the Ashen Wolves.

A smaller house, they were as different and diverse as the deer, as esteemed and organized as the lions, and as driven as the eagles. Yuri and Seteth seemed to both act as leaders, Seteth taking on an “official” role, while Yuri rallied the house members. Byleth appreciated the laid back and aloof attitude of Hapi, the flirtatiousness of Balthus, and adored the confidence of Constance. Yuri’s clever ingenuity and wit won over the hearts around him, while in contrast Seteth’s rigid organization and pragmatism kept everyone in line.

Byleth favored the Ashen Wolves, but when she went to speak to Seteth, he acted as if he were trying to avoid her. She persisted and he relented.

“I suppose you want to get to know the Ashen Wolves better, do you not?” He folded his arms, glaring down his nose at her though he was barely any taller than she was. “Well you should go waste your time somewhere else. Perhaps the Golden Deer would be more your style.”

“That sounds almost like an insult.” Byleth raised an eyebrow. “They are your peers, they seem like good kids.”  
Seteth scowled. “And what about you? What do you seem like? Should we not have the option to choose?” When Byleth didn’t respond he huffed, “You see, my sister, sweet woman that she is, is right to question your appointment as professor. But I am not so easily swayed. You may have saved my life, but you are still a stranger to this monastery. I have every reason to distrust you.”  
“That’s fine. I was just as shocked at the appointment. But it’s not like I’m going anywhere now that my father’s with the Knights again.” She shrugged.  
Seteth said, “Ah, the famed Blade Breaker himself. I heard he ran off after a terrible fire here years ago. You assume I’d trust him too?”

“Well, no.”

“And you assume I’ll fawn over you like everyone else?” His lip curled in disgust. “Just because the other house leaders were enamored with your _valorant_ actions doesn’t mean I will be.”  
“It is what any decent person would have done.” Byleth nodded.  
He raised his eyebrows, surprised she’d agree. “Tch. Experience, too? You look like you’re a year or two younger than Balthus.”

At the mention of his name, Balthus bounded up to them, draping an arm around Seteth’s shoulders. “You called?” Seteth shrugged Balthus’s arm off.

“Do get off of me.”  
“Hey professor, right? Hm, sounds a bit weird. How about I call you pal?” Balthus beamed down at Byleth. “Have you decided on us? If so, you can come watch me train shirtless.” He winked.

“The professor picked us? Do my ears deceive me?” Constance chimed, joining Seteth’s other side. Seteth, now fuming, balled his fists at his sides. “Such an asset as yourself at my side would guarantee restoration of House Nuvelle!” She batted her eyes at Byleth.

“Huh, odd choice, but I guess we got lucky this time.” Hapi trailed behind Constance.  
Yuri emerged behind Byleth, laying a hand on her shoulder, “Glad to have you on the team.” He gave a sensuous smile.  
Byleth blushed. Were they all flirting with her? She didn’t dare cross that line, and they'd know better than to flirt with a professor! Considering the Ashen Wolves, five students would be a bit easier to manage than eight.

Seteth was furious, “You all misheard entirely. The professor will  _ not _ be joining us.”

“Actually, I think I will.” Byleth smirked, meeting Seteth’s glare.

He stammered, trying to formulate a response.

“This is great! Welcome to the Ashen Wolves, professor!” Balthus boomed, sweeping everyone up in a crushing hug. The hug squeezed Byleth against a very angry Seteth. His face went bright red as he grinded his teeth. Daggers shot from his eyes at her. She answered him with a smug grin.


	3. First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth starts her first day on the job, and gets to know Flayn. Flayn is observing Byleth at Seteth's behest and out of curiosity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flayn and Seteth claim to be brother and sister, but she's his mom LOL
> 
> I hope Seteth keeps his focus in future lectures, otherwise bad grades would mean forfeiting his position as class leader (in this little fic at least)
> 
> I'll try to move things along since I think this pacing is rather slow. Open to ideas as we get through the first few months of the typical canon timeline!
> 
> I love to hear your feedback!!

“I see that Byleth has chosen your house.” Flayn greeted her son as he sat next to her for dinner.  
“She did so purely to spite me.” Seteth growled.

“Spite?”

“Everyone else is so happy to have the Blade Breaker and his kid here at Garreg Mach. It seems you and I are the only ones who have concerns.” He continued. “I just do not want to go back into hiding.”  
“We have been cautious for a long time.” Flayn nodded. “But we are safe here. Rhea will protect us, and I will trust her judgement. I will try to get to know the professor. Something about her seems…”  
“You felt it too? Almost as if she’s…” He glanced around and lowered his voice, “Like us?”

“It does not seem possible.” Flayn replied. “Her father--”  
“I am skeptical of the Blade Breaker as well.” Seteth added.  
“Well, then maybe it is best that she chose to teach the Ashen Wolves. You can keep a closer eye on her.” Flayn smiled.

“Could you come watch her teach? Give her notes? That way if she slips up, we would not have to deal with her.”

“You really do not like her, do you?” Flayn chuckled. He snorted. “Well, if it will put your mind at ease, I suppose I can come to a few of her classes.”

“Thank you… sister.” Seteth exhaled.

Seteth was pleased to see his mother join the Ashen Wolves for their first lecture with Byleth. Byleth welcomed her and was greeted with a silent and respectful nod, before continuing her lesson.

Seteth couldn’t listen to this former mercenary. She was only a little older than most of the students at the Officer’s Academy. Her experience was no better than the average knights. The more he thought about it, the more he found himself not listening. His stare was intent on her, however, studying her movements. Watching her gesture as she spoke, her collected composure, her watchful gaze over her students…

When her eyes settled on him, his heart stopped. Deep blue orbs beheld him, her stare just as intense as his. For a brief second, there was electricity in the air between them, raising the hair on the back of his neck. She broke her gaze away to continue prattling on about whatever it was he wasn’t listening to.

He was so lost in watching her that he didn’t notice the lesson had finished and she had stopped talking. When she turned from her desk and spotted him, she called his name.

“Seteth?” She cocked her head. “Seteth, did you have a question? Is something wrong?”

Reality snapped back to him in an instant. “No. Not at all.” He shook his head, speaking softly. He hurried out of the room, exchanging a look with his mother before leaving.

  
  


Flayn rose from the back, gliding across the classroom. “Excellent work professor. I have a few notes that may help you with future lessons.”  
“Thank you Flayn. I appreciate any feedback, since I’m fresh to this.” She beamed. “You and Seteth look a lot alike, I was wondering if you were related by chance? Is that why he is house leader?”

Flayn chuckled, “He is my younger brother. I suppose if he wanted, he could take up the mantle of Archbishop, and is already an excellent candidate.”

“I’m worried. He doesn’t seem to like me. I don’t expect him to, but I don’t want him to skip out on lectures or anything because of any animosity.” Byleth admitted. “I just want to foster an atmosphere of mutual respect during my time here with the students.”  
“As you should,” Flayn agreed. The woman looked Byleth over for a moment, “After we go over my notes, would you like to go fishing?”

  
  
  


Byleth did want to get to know the other faculty of Garreg Mach better, but she never expected to go on an impromptu fishing trip with Rhea’s advisor on her first day teaching. There was a slight awkwardness as Byleth sat on the dock and cast her line, trying to determine if Flayn was some sort of superior rank over her, and just how casual she could be.

“I love fishing.” Flayn smiled. “I’m not the best at it though.”  
“I never had too many chances to fish, but dad taught me well enough.” Byleth replied.

“So how old are you? Jeralt used to work at the monastery years ago. He must have had you right after he left.”

Byleth tensed, “I… don’t really know.”  
“You do not know?” Flayn was incredulous. “I find that hard to believe.”  
“I… don’t remember too much. Only bits and pieces. I feel like right before I came here that I suddenly… became conscious for the first time? As if my life until then was a dream.” Byleth explained.

Flayn made a noise of consideration as she studied Byleth’s face. When her brow furrowed, she looked so much like Seteth did in the classroom. Intense.

“So you’re Rhea’s advisor, huh? What exactly does that entail?” Byleth blurted out a question as soon as she thought of it.

“Oh, well. I make sure that everyone has the supplies they need, that the monastery is maintained, and that you get paid.” She chuckled. “The Church is an anchor, a beacon of balance between the three nations of Fodlan. We are mediators, peacekeepers, and helpers that hold no allegiance to any single banner aside from the Church itself. The Church’s boundaries extend beyond political borders.”

“I see.” Byleth was still wary, but Flayn seemed passionate about her work. “Ah, I got a bite!” She felt the tug on her line, and began to reel in a fish. A bullhead sprang from the water with a loud splash, wriggling at the end of her hook.

“Great catch!” Flayn cheered. “May I have it?”  
“Oh, uh, sure.” Byleth nodded.  
“Thank you.” Flayn grinned, taking the catch from the line. “Let us make fishing trips more regular, okay? I am sure you have plenty of stories to tell from being a mercenary.”

“That sounds lovely.” Byleth smiled, considering that maybe Flayn was less passionate about the Church as an institution and more passionate about the people within and the work they did.


	4. Duels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth challenges Seteth to a duel, trying to convince him to use lances or lose his position as house leader of the Ashen Wolves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seteth has funny feelings that he cannot decipher, nor will he entertain them.
> 
> Byleth has drawn a line for herself and she intends to keep it that way. Good for her!
> 
> As always, suggestions and ideas are welcome. This will be a "slow burn" I think is the word, so I will try to add some of the awesome suggestions everyone has had so far.  
> Seteth is not pleased that Flayn and Byleth are getting along.
> 
> as a reminder, I have 7 other Setleth fics of varying length and scenario, so please read them!!  
> Everything from a somewhat canon-compliant modern au to a quick and dirty 1500 word one shot, and even a novella length gods au! yes, all of them are smut

Seteth wasn’t pleased to find Flayn had taken a liking to the new professor. It seemed like every other day they were out fishing together, swapping stories. While his mother seemed to keep herself aloof and was still wary, she was growing fonder of Byleth and it was very apparent. He grew even more resentful of Byleth, yet still found himself distracted and brooding during her lectures.

Frustrated, he took out his anger at the training grounds. Felix was more than happy to challenge him, and occasionally Catherine would oblige in a friendly duel. Still weak with swords, he persisted even after others suggested he consider lances or axes. Nothing would give him away, he would take  _ no  _ risks.

  
  


“Please pay attention, Seteth.” Byleth groaned, shaking her head. “I asked you a question.”

Seteth snapped up, as if he were waking up from a dream. “You… I just…”

“The answer is that lances have a distinct advantage over swords because of their reach.” Byleth sighed. “Your performance lately has been lacking.”

He huffed, of course he could have answered such an easy question. Yuri snickered somewhere behind him. His hair stood on end as he balled his fists on his desk.

“You know that this will come in handy for the mock battle. Unless you’d rather let someone else be house lead?” Byleth asked.

“That will not be necessary.” He gritted.

“Then pay attention, please. I thought I was being lenient…” She muttered.

  
  


The best thing to do was take it out on the training grounds, late into the evening. Thinking he was alone, he muttered things he thought of after class to counter Byleth, striking at a training dummy. He had tossed his uniform aside, training in an underblouse that clung to his sweaty form.

After letting out a particularly dramatic barrage on the dummy, a voice startled him. “Your form is still sloppy. You’re not made to wield a sword.”

Seteth’s lip curled in disgust at the sight of Byleth emerging from the shadows. “What do  _ you  _ want?” He regarded her. She set her robe aside, picking up a training sword from a nearby weapons rack.

“I thought I could do some practicing myself.” She replied. “I didn’t think anyone would still be here.” He snorted. He had so much more experience than she, but the lance was so ingrained in him. “Your footwork looks like that of a polearms expert. Your stances remind me of my father’s.”  
He frowned. “I am a swordsman.”

“Have you considered lances? Or at least axes?” Byleth asked. She circled him, looking him over as he held his stance.

“I refuse to.” He snarled. “I am set on this decision.”

“If that’s the case, here.” Byleth moved in suddenly. His pulse quickened.

She took his hand in hers and adjusted it on the hilt, then gently bent his elbow. Her hands were so warm, setting his skin afire. She moved behind him, positioning his shoulders and using her foot to slide his other foot until he shifted his center of balance. Her proximity to him made him tense, his heart pounding in his ears. How dare she touch him! He was so angry with her that even his body seemed to loathe her. Why else would his skin tingle and his breath grow short?

He could smell her. It was a soft gentle scent, something floral like jasmine, mixed with the sea. Something about it was so familiar, and yet so strange. His mind raced, intrigued. His entire focus honed in on her.

“Try that.” She said. “Focus on your target. Breathe slower.”

Her words repeated in his mind, echoing endlessly. He turned, she was his target. The look in her eye was recognition that this was a silent challenge to spar. She raised her blade in acceptance, taking her own stance. A smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth.

A smirk that triggered his fury as he lunged at her, moving swiftly from his new starting position. She parried him, wacking the back of his legs with her training sword. He growled, running at her again, feinting his charge before diving to her left. She evaded, throwing out her leg to trip him. He tumbled down. Rolling over, he raised his blade only for hers to intersect his, batting it down before pointing her blade at his throat.

His face warped into a bitter scowl as he leaned away from the point of her sword, yielding.

“Please consider lances. If you flunk the lectures you could at least remain house leader if you manage to fight well.” Byleth said, her eyes boring into his.

He threw up his hand, shoving her blade away. “Do not tell me what to do.”

“Then that is your choice, but you will have to deal with its effects.” Byleth shrugged.

Seteth got to his feet. He discarded his sword with a careless toss, then brushed himself off. He headed toward the doors.

“You don’t want to try again?”  
“I have better things to do than deal with _you_.” He hissed.

  
  


Seteth’s eyes were so bright, and a fire burned within them. Byleth acknowledged he was a fine young man, but his attitude needed to be put in check. Why was he so adamant about refusing to use any other weapons? With the mock battle coming up, she considered asking him to sit this one out.

He always seemed so tense around her. It was painfully obvious when she helped him adjust his form. His knuckles were white around the hilt of his sword, his shoulders were practically hunched to his ears. Surely there was more to him than meets the eye.

Just like the rest of her students. While they were starting to open up and be more familiar with their professor, Seteth remained behind his walls. He seemed that way with most everyone at the monastery. Occasionally with Claude and Dimitri he would be somewhat at ease, sometimes he even had moments with the other Ashen Wolves. The only time when she ever caught a glimpse of him relaxed was when he was talking to his sister.

She didn’t hesitate to bring up the subject on her next fishing date with Flayn. “He practices all the time. He works so hard, but he just seems like he’d be a natural with a lance.” Byleth explained. “Could you try to talk some sense into him?”

“I… I suppose I could. He is stubborn, though.” Flayn replied.  
“He’s house leader, right? I thought he’d be more attentive in class.”

“Is he not?” Flayn was shocked.

“He’s always staring, but his mind seems to wander. I usually have to call on him a few times before I get his attention. He can never answer my questions.” Byleth shrugged. “So far, the rest of the students have been wonderful. I’ve even had Sylvain join our house and I thought he’d be even more distracted, especially with Hapi and Constance around. But even he is more attentive than your brother.”

“Oh dear. Both he and Yuri contested for quite a while about who would be house lead.”

“How did they settle it?”

“Well, Rhea took them both aside. She spoke to each of them separately, and Yuri decided to step down.” Flayn shrugged. “He never told me what it was about.”

“Yuri may still get his chance if Seteth performs poorly during the mock battle.” Byleth warned. “Since he doesn’t seem to listen to me, can you relay the message?”

“Of course.” Flayn chimed.

  
  
  


“You can’t do this.” Seteth was aghast, storming across the training grounds and interrupting Byleth’s sparring session with Felix.

“Ugh it’s  _ you _ . Do you mind?” Felix huffed, backing away and lowering his blade.

Byleth rolled her eyes. The last thing she needed was two hotheaded boys giving her callous remarks. She could barely deal with one at a time.

“Seteth, whatever it is can wait until after my next lecture. You’ve interrupted your peer. That’s unbecoming of a house leader.” Byleth glared at him.

The glare shot through Seteth’s heart, a twinge of pain causing him to falter. He recovered quickly, “You continue these vague threats, but I doubt you will act on them. Picking other students over me for the mock battle?”

“It seems reasonable with your performance lately.” Byleth retorted. Felix snickered.

“Performance?” He scoffed. “I just think you have it out for me.”

“Care to test that theory? As I recall, you were easily bested in our last encounter.” She said. “I even gave you pointers. Use a lance, Seteth. It works better with your style and movement.”

“Put me in the mock battle, and I will prove you wrong.” He insisted.

“How about we duel for it. I win, you switch to lances. You win, you get to participate in the mock battle.” She sighed, nodding to Felix who groaned before slinking off.

Seteth hesitated for a beat. “And I get to continue using whatever weapon I choose.” He added.  
“Fine, fine.” Byleth rolled her eyes, taking her stance and raising her sword. “Grab your weapon and be on your guard.”

A smug smile spread across Seteth’s face as he strutted over to the weapons rack and pulled out a lance. “Very well then.”  
“A lance? So you’re taking my advice?” She scoffed.

“You didn’t specify this was a sword duel. So if I win, I could continue using the weapon of my choice and be in the mock battle with it. Even if that means I have to win this little sparring match with a lance.” He said, his body instinctively moving to its ready position, balancing his lance.

Byleth’s throat went dry when she watched him move into position seamlessly with a lance in hand. As if he was a different person, Seteth was poised to strike with an unnerving confidence, not the expected cockiness of a teenager. There was a sudden air of experience that captivated her.

Intrigued, she let him move first. “Go ahead.”

On her guard, she braced herself for his charge. He leapt up, swinging his lance down. A loud clang echoed through the training grounds. The impact shook through her, rattling her bones. She stumbled, shocked at the sudden intensity. Seteth was strong, that much was obvious. But she wasn’t expecting something like  _ that _ .

She raced to flank him after recuperating quickly, but he spun quickly, shifting his grip so his lance slid back in his hands. He knocked her back with a sharp jab into her stomach with the blunt end of his spear. The wind was knocked out of her as she fell backward. Stunned, she caught her breath.

“Come on,” Seteth taunted. “You wanted me to use lances, did you not?” He laughed, backing away to allow her to recover and try again.

“Impressive.” Byleth wheezed, getting to her feet. She circled him as she regained her composure, watching his every move. His foot shifted, indicating a step. She took the opportunity to charge and sweep at his feet to try and knock him down.

“Too easy.” He chuckled. He spun his lance as he danced over her stride, wacking her in the back. She stumbled forward. “I cannot believe you fell for it.”

Byleth was very impressed, and very frustrated. His gloating made her impatient, testing her nerves. She whirled around, lunging in and dodging his quick counter, testing him. She swiped at his shoulder and got a similar reaction. Noting this, she dashed to his right and jabbed at him. He swept her legs from behind, tripping her up. She faltered and turned the momentum into another charge, only for him to throw his lance out and strike her in the gut.

Absorbing the blow with a gasp, she dug in her feet and pressed on, her blade desperately hacking to get at him. Seteth was relentless, hitting her with the side of his lance as she continued to press him back. She could only take so many hits, and before he swung his lance again, she leapt away to regain her composure and breath.

Both of them circled one another, panting. Faces flushed, glares meeting. A trickle of sweat rolled down Byleth’s brow. Her knuckles were white around the hilt of her sword, her hands shaking.

“I knew it. I knew you were good with a lance.” She gave a harsh laugh.

“You are an excellent fighter,” he replied. His eyes roamed over her as if to search for any signals. Or at least she assumed. She was careful to try and not give herself away.

She rushed at him once more, starting low. She blocked a jab from him before she moved to uppercut him but the back of his spear struck her forearm and disarmed her. Byleth cried out at the sudden shock, her momentum causing her to crash into the solid wall that was Seteth’s chest. He spun his lance, catching it in his hands and pulling it back against her, locking her in place in his arms.

“Do you yield?” He snarled, inches from her face.

She breathed, “Well done.” She was mortified, screaming internally that a student had bested her. Why in all of Fodlan was he choosing swords when he clearly had mastered lances? “You can take your place in the mock battle.”

“And?” He glared down his nose at her.

The realization of their proximity had a heat rising in her cheeks. She needed to pull free of his grip immediately. He refused. Stubborn. She swallowed thickly, relenting.

“And you may use whatever weapon you prefer.” She sighed. “Just please be sensible.”

His snarl softened to a satisfied grin as he basked in his victory. Her back continued to press against his spear as he held it locked in place. When he still didn’t budge, her hands splayed over his cut torso to push him away. Her face went bright red as she shamed herself for the contact.

“Be mindful next time.” She straightened herself, furrowing her brow.

  
  


He trapped her. So he could see the horrid look on her face when she finally admitted defeat. That he bested her. That she could no longer hold his position as house leader over his head. So she could stop harassing him about using his lance.

And her scent wafted into his nostrils, sending his heart from the pounding of battle to the fluttering of… No. He needed to focus. There was no time to even humor such things. Even after he released her he thought of how her hands pressed against his chest, of how she must have felt him…

He muttered a swear as he threw the lance back into the rack with a clatter. Though he was the victor, the frustrating feeling of loss weighed over his shoulders and muddled the outcome of the duel. Before she could say anything else, he was hurrying out of the training grounds. To escape her presence was to find sanctuary.


	5. Mock Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ashen Wolves face off against the three other houses in the mock battle! It turns into a wild free-for-all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have some interesting things in store, but Seteth has to be a clueless fool first lmao

Hapi and the newly joined Sylvain opted to sit the mock battle out. This left the rest of the Ashen wolves to join Byleth on the battlefield, ready to face off against the three other houses. Byleth was apprehensive about Seteth choosing to wield a sword, but he earned the privilege.

The Blue Lions advanced to try and take the Black Eagles. The Golden Deer intended to flank the Blue Lions. It was Byleth’s suggestion to wait that Seteth argued against.

“We don’t have time for this. It is not a true victory if we wait for a battered opponent.” Seteth snarled. “We should engage or be subjected to mockery!”

Byleth groaned. “You don’t have the skills to engage. Maybe if you had a lance, I’d consider.”  
“I’m gonna stick with our pal’s plan.” Balthus agreed with Byleth.

“It’s not that we don’t have confidence in you, it’s just that… we don’t have confidence in your sword skills.” Yuri shrugged.

“A thousand pardons,” A sun-exposed Constance inclined her head, “but I am in agreement with my esteemed peers.”

“Then I shall go alone and prove you wrong.” Seteth growled before charging out to face the others, who were already engaging.  
Byleth swore, pursuing him. The remaining Ashen Wolves exchanged a few glances before following their teacher.

“Seteth listen to me!” Byleth shouted. Seteth rushed into the fray, swinging his sword at Hubert.

Hubert cackled, blasting a bolt of magic at the green haired young man. He ducked, sliding across the grass and kicking at the mage’s feet. Ferdinand leapt out to defend Hubert, jabbing at Seteth with his lance. Seteth scrambled backwards, only to come face to face with Hilda’s axe.

A blast of magic had Hilda balking and turning her attention elsewhere. Seteth glanced up seeing Constance prepare to strike again as Balthus put himself between Ferdinand and Hubert. Yuri yanked Seteth to his feet, deflecting another blast of magic. Seteth whirled around, watching the battle. The Blue Lions were mostly out, and the Golden Deer were closing in.

“Watch out!” Byleth shouted, leaping after Seteth and tackling him to the ground as arrows rained next to them. Claude turned his attention elsewhere, allowing them a moment to breathe. Byleth laid over him, shielding him. Seteth’s heart pounded in his ears, his cheeks flushing.

“You didn’t have to do that!” He huffed, wriggling out from under her.

“Apparently I did.” She growled, scrambling to her feet. She glanced over to see Constance take a direct hit from Hilda.

“I have brought shame to us all, I must withdraw.” She lamented.

A bolt of magic whizzed past them, hitting Hilda and knocking her out. Byleth swore. She yanked Seteth’s arm, dragging him over to Yuri and Balthus as they defended themselves against Hubert and Ferdinand. Edelgard faced off against Claude while Lysithea targeted Byleth.

Byleth was preoccupied with trying to sneak around to flank Ferdinand. Seteth dashed after her, intercepting a direct hit of Lysithea’s magic. He grunted, faltering. Byleth whirled around to see him stumble.

“Seteth!”  
“Someone has to watch your back too…” He huffed.

Byleth furrowed her brow, then ran after Lysithea, dodging two blasts of magic before being struck by a third. With a shove of her shoulder, the girl was pushed back, and at the tip of the professor’s sword, she surrendered.

Claude forced Edelgard to retreat as Yuri bested Hubert, but not before the mage took down Balthus. Arrows thudded into the ground at Seteth’s feet. Byleth leapt to push Seteth out of range, taking an arrow in the thigh. She yelped in pain.

Yuri rushed to her aid, pulling a vulnerary out. Seteth turned his attention to Claude, the last deer standing. His blood boiled after seeing his professor struck, and rage consumed him. He charged, taking an arrow in his shoulder before he tackled Claude, tumbling into some brush. Seteth bellowed, his bade inches from Claude’s throat.  
“Hey, hey! I yield, I yield!” Claude threw his hands up, dropping his bow. His eyes were wide with fear as Seteth loomed over him, his face distorted in fury. “Easy, Seteth. It’s a mock battle, remember?”

Seteth snapped out of it. “I… I am sorry. Call the healers. The battle is won.” He frowned, sheathing his blade and extending a hand to help Claude up.

“No hard feelings, right?”  
Seteth nodded. “I am glad we are friends and not enemies.”

“Me too.” He chuckled. “Still, I saw you completely ignored the professor’s strategy. She’s not too happy.”

“She never is.” Seteth scoffed.

  
  


Flayn healed Byleth’s wound and continued to check on the others who were injured in the mock battle. Everything was soon back to normal, the students talking between their houses complimenting each other’s prowess. Her mood darkened when she saw Seteth brooding at the edge of the socialization.

“I know what you’re going to say. I don’t need you to rub it in.” Seteth snarled, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

She shook her head. “I wanted to say you did a great job, though I would prefer it if we didn’t have Balthus and Constance both knocked out. We need to avoid any and all losses if possible. This mock battle everyone came out fine, but in a real battle, that is not a guarantee. You must do everything you can to preserve your allies.”

“Tch.” Seteth folded his arms.

“I’d have more confidence in such a reckless move if you were carrying a lance.” She said.  
“I told you before, I want to focus on swords. I want to be well-rounded, learn new things.”

“Fair enough, but you also need to know when is a good time to use your strengths.” Byleth replied. “There is plenty of time to train and grow, but for vital missions, and when lives are at stake, please consider playing to your strengths.”

He stood silent for a moment.

“You’re bleeding.” She pointed to the blood staining his sleeve and trickling down his hand.

“An arrow must have grazed me.” He muttered.

She reached over, pulling his arm to her to examine the wound. Glancing around, all the healers were busy. She sighed, pulling a handkerchief from her robes and tying it around the wound.

“You don’t have to do that, I’d be just fine without it. My sister would come heal me when she finished with the other more serious injuries.” He glared at her, his face red.

“We don’t know how long that’s been bleeding, it’d be stupid to not wrap it up with something until you can get it looked at.” She said, still holding his arm. “Honestly, what is it with you kids being so stubborn?”  
“You are only a year or so older than me.” He chuckled. “Do you really think us kids?”

“With how you act?” She retorted. “Yes.” He yanked his arm away, storming off.

  
  


Her hands were so soft. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. Seteth ran his fingers gently over the handkerchief on his arm, appreciating the simple but practical fabric. Not elegant and showy like the accessories of nobles. He appreciated the practicality of her experience as a mercenary, though he would never admit to such a thing.

And the way she smiled… even as she mocked him. He clenched his fists, ignoring the pain shooting up his arm. If only she knew, she wouldn’t dare say such things about him! Yet she had been smart and aware throughout the whole battle, saving him.

Seeing her get hit with the arrow disturbed him. It made him angrier than he had ever been before. To the point where he nearly lost control and his senses, and poor Claude was none the wiser of what could have been. That rage was inexplicable, and he couldn’t risk something like that happening again.

Why was he so worked up?


	6. The Four Saints

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth learns about the four saints.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seteth doesn't know why his heart fluttered when Byleth said the name of her favorite Saint.
> 
> I want to move the story along a little faster, so suggestions welcome! What should I throw in before the timeskip?

Lazy days rolled by and Byleth found herself falling into a routine. Flayn reprimanded her son for being so reckless during the mock battle, as well as being insubordinate. Seteth did not take the criticism well at all, growing more frustrated with Byleth.

The Garland moon was largely uneventful aside from Sylvain’s birthday, giving way to the sweltering Blue Sea moon. Balthus also had a birthday, and it seemed he and Sylvain both had similar requests for their birthday present from Byleth. She courteously declined, taking their requests with a grain of salt. Sobering herself by dismissing them as just excitable young men. Though Balthus was now two years her senior.

Flayn’s birthday fell on some strange Church holiday, and Byleth was more inclined to join her on the dock for another fishing date. While Flayn held a high position and spoke fondly of the Church, Byleth had to ask her questions.

“Jeralt didn’t really talk about the church or its teachings.” She admitted.

“Ah, well that is unfortunate. The Church teaches unity and peace throughout Fodlan.” Flayn explained. “And that long ago the four saints helped Saint Seiros to restore peace to the land. Since today is Saint Cethleann day, we honor her bringing light and hope to Fodlan.” She chuckled. “There are statues in the cathedral. Maybe you could do some reading on the saints. Many people have their favorites. There’s Saint Macuil, Saint Indech, and Saint Cichol, too.”

“Sounds interesting.” Byleth nodded.

“Meet me by the statues tomorrow, and tell me what you find out. Maybe you’ll have a favorite saint by then, too.” Flayn beamed.

“Who is your favorite?” Byleth asked.

“Saint Cethleann of course! My birthday is during her celebration after all. A blessed coincidence.”

Byleth spent the evening in the library, exploring the lore of the Saints and the church. It was expansive and endless, and quite a bit of it was boring. Each Saint bore their own talents and personalities, along with legends of their deeds.

Macuil was a skilled craftsman, who aided the people of Fodlan. Indech was a great warrior and defender of the land. Cethleann healed the sick and wounded while Cichol, Cethleann’s son, brought order. Byleth considered each Saint, growing fond of Cichol since he was depicted as a leader and guiding figure. She wanted to bring that leadership to her students, and inspire them.

Flayn waited in the Cathedral, near four statues of the saints. Seteth was at her side. He was obviously less than pleased to be there, but humored his sister. Flayn chimed a greeting to Byleth, while Seteth merely nodded.

“Did you learn about the Saints and their miracles?” Flayn clasped her hands together, her eyes sparking.

“Yes, it was intriguing. Each Saint is a symbol.” Byleth regarded the statues around them, admiring each.

“I asked Byleth to consider who her favorite saint was,” Flayn said to Seteth. “Who is yours?”

Seteth gave a warm smile, “I am inspired by Saint Cethleann.”

“Well professor? What about you?” Flayn asked.

Byleth’s eyes settled on the statue of Cichol. The statue held a stern expression, yet looked young. These icons seemed so perfect and immortal. How could anyone be so great that they are honored this way? Did they really look like their statues?

“I suppose I admire the leadership that Cichol exemplifies. I could use his ability to bring order to get my students to listen.” She chuckled, eyeing Seteth. He stiffened and reddened at her remark and she was pleased her words didn’t fall on deaf ears. Hopefully his attitude would change at some point and he’d actually listen to her.

“Saint Cichol? How fascinating.” Flayn nodded.

Seteth puffed out his chest, “I would like to lead my house as well as he.”

“Psh, good luck.” Byleth muttered. “With your attitude? You should take pointers from the other house leads. They actually talk to their classmates. I hardly ever see you talk to your peers. How can you call yourself a leader when you distance yourself from everyone?”

Seteth gasped, looking to Flayn for backup.

“She does have a point, though I would have put it a little more gently.” Flayn agreed.

“Sister! You wound me.” Seteth was visibly hurt.

“I don’t mean that as an affront, Seteth.” Byleth tried to comfort him. “I should have said that better. I just never see you talk to anyone. You keep to yourself so much. I feel like there’s the Ashen Wolves… everyone who works together, and you’re just someone who tags along with a title.”

Seteth hung his head. “I don’t need to take this from you.”

“Seteth, please. The professor is trying to look out for you. We both want you to succeed.” Flayn said.

“You’re a good leader now, Seteth. But you have the huge potential to be even greater. Especially if you are to inherit an important position in the church, then people skills are pretty good to have. You don’t have to see eye to eye with me, but at least try to find some common ground with your classmates. Even if that means cutting loose a little.” Byleth explained.

“Do not say such things,” Flayn chuckled. “I do not want you to be a bad influence.” She nudged Byleth at her joke, both of them laughing.

“I think if anyone were to get Seteth into trouble… well… he wouldn’t let them.” Byleth smiled.

Seteth sighed, grumbling to himself.


	7. In and Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth and Claude suspect something and investigate together while Byleth offers support to the Blue Lions. Seteth makes sure lines are not crossed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seteth has shared vague details about his past trauma with Dimitri when they first met. They bonded over it and became friends.  
> Claude is now bonding with Seteth by teaching him the ways of how to not have a stick up one's ass.  
> It's a good time.
> 
> Seteth loves his friends, but steps in when he catches them trying to cozy up to the professor... why? Because such lines should not be crossed and he is a man of rules and practicality, of course!
> 
> I realize I haven't written many descriptors of Seteth for this. I don't know if I can reasonably squeeze them in later, so here they are:  
> Seteth looked about 19. His chin had a touch of green fuzz on it, his square jaw sharp. His hair was medium length and thick, wild and often tied back from his face in a small ponytail. He appeared scrawny, but his shorter stature and perfectly pressed uniform his his toned musculature well. He was burgeoning into adulthood.
> 
> Additionally, you may have noticed that I aged down Balthus from 26 to 22-23 for no reason but convenience.
> 
> I hope this touches on some of the suggestions left earlier!

After dealing with the insurrection of the Western church, Seteth finally decided to take Flayn and Byleth’s advice to heart. After having to put an end to Lord Lonato, there was a grim air over the monastery, and Seteth wanted to improve things. Byleth began to spend much time with the Blue Lions, and worked to comfort Ashe. Her absence with the Ashen Wolves allowed Seteth to do as he pleased, so he decided to seek out those who were well-versed in the ways of cutting loose.

“You want to… party.” Claude was incredulous as he sat back in the Golden Deer classroom, kicking his feet up on the desk. “With me.”

“Well, yes.” Seteth swallowed, shifting on his feet.

“I dunno, Seteth. Shouldn’t you be investigating that note Lonato left behind?” Claude raised an eyebrow. “I know teach is busy trying to comfort the Blue Lions after the loss, but there’s still things to be done. This hardly seems like a time to party.”  
Seteth folded his arms. “What do you know about the note?”  
“I didn’t go on the mission, but I do know something like that is more than just a little suspicious.” Claude said.

“So what do you want?”  
“I want in. I may not be able to join the Ashen Wolves, but I want to figure this thing out. I think it’s part of something bigger.” There was a glint in his eye.

“Very well then.” Seteth sighed.

“Great, let’s get to it.” Claude sprang up from his seat.

  
  
  


“Professor, I truly cannot thank you enough for your guidance through this difficult time.” Dimitri said, joining Byleth on the training grounds. “Spending time with Ashe has been most helpful.”  
“I know this is a difficult time for him. I still have questions of my own to be answered, but you all come first.” Byleth nodded. She tossed Dimitri a training lance, picking up a sword from the weapons rack.

“Professor, would you consider teaching the Blue Lions? Hanneman is good and all, but I would appreciate your joining us as well.” Dimitri’s face flushed as he took his stance across from her.

“She can’t change classes, only students can. And you’re a house leader, so you’re out of luck, my friend.” Claude’s voice chimed.

Byleth looked over to see Claude approaching with Seteth. “Oh Claude, Seteth. Hello. I was just about to spar with Dimitri.”  
“We have something to discuss with you.” Seteth folded his arms.

“I was hoping to train with Dimitri, can it wait a bit?” Byleth asked.

Seteth opened his mouth but Claude raised his arm to stop him. “By all means, professor. I’d like to see you in action.”

Byleth nodded, turning to face Dimitri. She took her stance, signaling for Dimitri to begin. Dimitri charged at her, swinging his lance down. She blocked it with her sword, the clang echoing through the training grounds. The force of the impact rattled her and she grunted, staggering backwards.

Dimitri withdrew immediately, “Professor! I am so sorry. Are you alright?”  
She nodded, circling him as she shook off the blow. His crest was powerful and she wasn’t expecting it. Knowing Dimitri was heavy-handed, her best course of action was not to block his blows, but evade as much as possible. She shifted to the balls of her feet, her steps growing light as she quickened her circles.

Dimitri jabbed his lance out at her. She leapt forward, then inward to strike at his hand, hoping to disarm him. He moved, twirling his lance. She withdrew, regarding him as she continued her circle. Lances had an advantage over swords, and he was using it well.

Yet Dimitri was still sloppy with his movements, his footwork nowhere near as precise as Seteth’s when she sparred him. Recalling this, she took a change and lunged, ducking a swing from his lance as she slid and hooked her blade on his ankles. He stumbled and she whirled around, leaping up to kick him forward, until he fell flat.

“I yield.” Dimitri panted, rolling over and smiling up at Byleth. “Well done professor.”  
“You were great, Dimitri.” Byleth smiled, offering him a hand up. “Focus on your footwork, you’re too stiff. You need to be able to move.”

She pulled Dimitri up, to find him very close to her, gazing into her eyes. “Professor, I would very much like to spar again.” His voice was soft.

Her face flushed but before she could reply, Seteth cut in, “May I spar you, Dimitri?” He inserted himself between them, nudging Dimitri back.  
“I suppose. We didn’t have much of an opportunity to face one another during the mock battle.” Dimitri inclined his head. Byleth held her sword up to Seteth for him to use. He shook his head, striding over to the weapons rack to grab a training lance.

Intrigued, Byleth stepped back, joining Claude’s side as they watched.

“I know you’ve been busy consoling the Blue Lions, teach.” Claude said as Seteth and Dimitri began sparring. Byleth couldn’t help but notice Seteth doing unnecessarily showy moves. “Seteth and I did some investigating on that note left behind.”  
“Oh?” Her full attention turned to Claude, who leaned close to her.

“I know you’re aware of the plans for the assassination of the Archibishop.” Claude murmured. “Seteth and I have come to the conclusion that that is just a distraction.”  
“A distraction? For what?” Byleth whispered.  
Claude stepped even closer, until they could share breath. “The holy mausoleum will be open during the rite of rebirth.” He laid a hand on her shoulder, his eyes gleaming. Claude was awfully close for comfort, but this intel was vital.  
“There’s something they want in the tomb.” She nodded.

“As clever as I am.” Claude smiled. “If only you chose the Golden Deer.” He sighed, leaning closer.

“Ah, well done.” Seteth declared his victory, pinning Dimitri and ending their match. “Professor, did you see--” He cut himself off, his face falling from a proud smile to a scowl.

Byleth pulled her attention from Claude to him. “Impressive.” She stepped back from Claude. Claude muttered something under his breath that she couldn’t quite understand. Seteth raised his lance to point at Claude.

He snarled, “What are you doing, Claude?”

“Just informing teach of our theory.” Claude smirked, resting his arms behind his head. “Something bothering you, Seteth?”

Seteth exhaled through his nose, his eyes flashing. He stormed up to Byleth, grabbing her arm.

“Hey!” She hissed.

“Come on, you don’t need to hang around these  _ dastards _ .” He snipped.

“Such pointed words, Seteth. Has something struck a nerve?” Claude asked.

“Seteth, calm down. Professor, is there something going on? Do you need help?” Dimitri asked.

“Dimitri should know about this. Whoever is behind it is at fault for Lonato’s death. Ashe should know.” Byleth looked between Claude and Seteth. Claude nodded, and Seteth eased his grip on her.

“Responsible for Lonato’s death?” Dimitri’s face darkened. “Tell me.”  
“Claude and I believe the note left behind was to give us a false lead. A distraction while the holy tomb was opened for the rite of rebirth. We suspect whoever was behind the Western Church revolt and Lonato’s treason is planning something with the tomb. The Archbishop needs protection during that time, because any threat is credible. But…”  
“The Golden Deer have agreed to join the Ashen Wolves in investigating the tomb during the rite of rebirth.” Claude finished.

“Then allow me to join you.” Dimitri said.

“Alright.” Byleth nodded. “Thank you Seteth, Claude, for investigating this. I should have been more attentive.”  
“You had good reason to. The Blue Lions need support in a time like this.” Seteth sighed.  
“Thank you.” Dimitri smiled.

  
  
  


Seteth was pleased he could defeat Dimitri at lances, hoping the show of his prowess would give Byleth more confidence in him. He didn’t like the way that Dimitri looked at her, or how he tried to get close to her. She was  _ his  _ professor, after all. It didn’t make sense. Was Hanneman not supporting the Blue Lions enough? Or did Dimitri go out of his way to request her help?

And then there was Claude. When he looked up to see Claude moving as if he were about to kiss his teacher, a fury ignited in him. How could he have the audacity to cross such a line! It was hardly appropriate, and a display like that out on the training grounds, no less! He would have to keep an eye on them for certain. But at least the two other house leaders offered their assistance.

His blood boiled that the other two house leaders were trying to interfere with the professor. Manuela and Hanneman weren’t enough? At least he didn’t have to worry about Edelgard, who was too busy doing small missions with the Black Eagles or going back to Enbarr on business to get involved.

He didn’t hate Claude or Dimitri. They had been good friends since they first met at the monastery not too long ago. In fact, they were probably the two people he could call friends outside of the Ashen Wolves. Even though he kept a reasonable distance.

Dimitri was formal, and much like him in trying to retain a good image. They related a lot, and there was an unspoken bond between them, both knowing that they had their own struggles in the past and they could sense it in their mannerisms.

Claude on the other hand, was inquisitive. Almost too inquisitive. Seteth, while wanting to learn much from him, knew that getting too close would mean Claude would start putting pieces together and one wrong move would blow his secret. He wanted to trust his fellow house leaders, but he wasn’t quite there yet.

At Claude’s behest, Seteth relented to finally attending one of Yuri’s parties in Abyss. He was joined by the other Golden Deer and Ashen Wolves. Ale flowed freely as they chatted and played music. Hilda danced with Hapi and Constance, while Balthus boomed laughter over a game of cards with a frustrated Lorenz, Raphael, and Leonie. Seteth played a few rounds, fumbling with the rules before dismissing himself for a drink and enjoying the scene. Ignatz was sketching up gestures and thumbnails, hoping to paint the essence of the party later on as a memento. Seteth lost himself watching as Ignatz’s quill glided across the parchment, until a voice snapped his attention away.

“Having a good time?” Claude smiled, leaning against the wall next to Seteth and sipping his drink.

“Ah yes, this has been most enjoyable.” Seteth smiled. “I feel so relaxed.”

“I see you’re figuring it out. Good for you.” Claude pat him on the back.

“It has been quite a long time since I have been able to do something like this.” Seteth grinned down at his drink. “Thank you.”

“All work and no play makes Seteth a dull lad. We are more than prepared for the rite of rebirth. Seeing you take on Dimitri with lances… I think you’d do well to take a lance with you.”

“I prefer swords.” Seteth sighed.  
“And why is that, exactly? When you are such an expert with a lance that you can defeat Dimitri even when his crest comes into play?” Claude asked.

“I would like to be well-rounded. If I am confident and skilled with one, should I not pursue experience in others to be the best I can possibly be. To ensure that I could take on any threat?” Seteth countered.

“Good point. I recall you didn’t particularly want to go to the training grounds earlier, though, mentioning something along the lines of the professor wanting to talk you into lances. Yet you hopped in to challenge Dimitri in an instant.” Claude sipped his drink. “Why is that, I wonder?”

Seteth scoffed, “It is of no concern. Just to see if I could do it, I suppose.”  
“Right.” Claude said, skeptical. “You were quite showy during that match, too.”

“Honestly Claude, why are you concerning yourself with this?”  
“You saw the way Dimitri looks at teach, right?” Claude snickered.

Seteth froze, tightening his grip on his drink, his hand shaking. “I do not know what you are talking about.”  
“She is a bit easy on the eyes, come on now. Why else would Sylvain jump ship to join the Ashen Wolves? You didn’t like me getting too close, either.” Claude looked at him from the corner of his eye.

Seteth did everything he could to remain stoic and unphased. “She is our professor. It would be inappropriate.” A bead of sweat trickled down his back.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself. You have to admit--”  
“I did not want her to choose my house, Claude.” Seteth turned to look him in the eye. “Everyone seemed so quick to trust her, to fawn over her.” His lip curled into a snarl. “It is as if you have all lost your senses.”

Claude widened his grin. “So you  _ aren’t  _ interested, then.”

“I absolutely am not! How absurd. I cannot believe you would--”  
“I get it, I get it.” Claude chuckled, shaking his head. “That just means I have less competition.”

Seteth took a deep breath, steadying his shaking hand before he shattered the glass in his grip. “Please do not.” Claude met his eyes, a knowing glint in his that matched his smirk. Seteth frowned, his cheeks burning. “Honestly, Claude.” He groaned.

It was absurd. How had everyone succumbed to the charms of the professor but him? Why was he the only one who had the good sense to step in whenever any of his peers tried to get close to her? Why were people so willing to cross these clear lines? His head spun, and it only made him more frustrated.


	8. The Relic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The students band together with their professor to defend the holy tomb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While tensions have eased for now... they are sure to rise again!
> 
> Anywho, I found out that the doctor should have written me out for rest for 6-8 weeks and that I shouldn't have been working all this time. I was only given a note for a day out. With mono. I'm furious, tired, and now realizing why I kept relapsing, and I hope to get a second opinion soon so I can actually get written documentation that allows me to REST. Additionally, my partner injured himself Sunday and I've been really worried about him and dealing with that. pls send good vibes in the form of suggestions! Upcoming for this fic we have a kidnapping to deal with, and a bunch of things could happen to fill the months before the white heron cup, the goddess tower, etc so I want to hear about what you'd like to see! Remember that I don't want things to start heating up between Byleth and Seteth until post-timeskip, but anything goes and I'll try to make it happen!
> 
> So far I do have plans for the kidnapping, dancer Seteth, Jeralt's death, and goddess tower.

Strange soldiers crowded into the holy tomb, nearing the casket of Saint Seiros. “Looks like we arrived just in time.” Claude said, knocking an arrow.

“We must hurry before they open the tomb.” Seteth growled, drawing his sword.

“Seteth…” Byleth regarded his sword. He pursed his lips, focusing on the enemies instead.

“We have no time to waste, look up there.” Dimitri pointed.  
A black figure mounted on a grisly horse stood in wait. “Claude, take the Golden Deer to the left, Dimitri, take the lions to the right. Ashen Wolves, let’s press forward.”

Claude grimaced, but said nothing as Seteth charged ahead. Byleth let out a sigh, following Seteth, the rest of her house in tow. The clash of battle crescendoed around them as the students engaged with the intruders.

“Constance, Hapi, I need you to focus your magic and strike before Seteth gets to him.” She pointed at the death knight.  
“Professor… I don’t know if--”  
“No task is too great for Constance Von Nuvelle!” Constance cackled, cutting Happi’s doubt off. Her laugh only grew more maniacal as she fired a blast at the death knight. He lunged at her, swinging his scythe in retaliation. Byleth took the opportunity to charge past Seteth seizing the opening.

Seteth veered away as Byleth charged in, instead moving to cover Constance. He shoved Constance aside, raising his blade to block. The scythe swung down, shattering Seteth’s sword, leaving a gash in his side. He cried out.

Byleth thrust her blade through the gap between the death knight’s gorget and his chest piece, wounding him. With a bellow, he cursed her before vanishing. She whirled around to see Seteth sprawled over the floor, wheezing as a pool of blood formed around him. She swore, racing to his side.  
“Seteth, please hold on.” She grabbed his hand, tears blurring her vision. “Hapi, Constance, please take care of him and do what you can.” Around them the other houses pressed on. The final line of intruders still held out, and many of the others made to retreat.  
“That… that was so fast.” Seteth grunted. “Ah, goddess… Professor…”

“Seteth, please hold on.” Byleth leaned down, squeezing him in a gentle embrace and brushing her fingers over his cheek. Hapi began the incantations to heal him as Constance focused her own magic. Yuri, Balthus, and Sylvain raced ahead.

“Professor, we need your help!” A voice called.

Byleth looked between Constance and Hapi. “Will he be okay?”

“Yes, go.” Hapi nodded.  
“Professor, please. I am sorry.”  
“You’ll have time for apologies later,” Byleth said sternly. She laid him down, then sprang to her feet, hurrying to catch up with the others.

“The seal is broken, hurry!” One of the intruders shouted.  
“A sword?” Another gasped.

Byleth broke the line, lunging at the mage who pulled a strange sword from the casket. With a flick of her wrist she tossed her sword, sending the artifact flying through the air. She snatched it in a swift catch, turning it towards her enemy. The mage stepped backwards, firing a blast of flame at her. Byleth knocked it aside with ease, and the strange sword in her hands began to grow. She had no time to question it, instead charging at the mage as he threw up a ward to defend himself.

The blade swung down, catching against the ward. The magic sizzled and crackled, until the ward shattered. With two more swift swings, Byleth felled the enemy. The intruders were cleared, and the students were victorious. They had successfully defended the tomb, though they unearthed a new relic as they did so.

  
  
  


“I am pleased that you have defended the holy mausoleum. To find a new relic in the tomb of Seiros…”  
“Should we be concerned it’s empty?” Byleth asked Rhea, cutting her off.

“Those tombs have sat for a thousand years.” Rhea dismissed the question. Flayn shifted beside her. “You were able to wield this weapon.” Rhea looked down at the blade in Byleth’s hands.

“Surely a relic that powerful should be returned to the tomb.” Flayn suggested.

Rhea’s eyes flashed at the idea, “No, no. I think if you are able to wield this weapon without issue, then it would be best suited for your hands.” She smiled. “I am entrusting it to you, professor.”

Something about her tone was comforting, yet it seemed unsettling. Byleth wondered if Rhea knew more about the sword and how it was left in the tomb than she was letting on. Still, to have a blade this powerful would be useful, and if she were the only one to wield it, then she couldn’t complain about having a relic of her own.

“This means she has a crest, Rhea?” Flayn asked.

“It would appear so.” Rhea replied. “Perhaps you should speak to Hanneman about this.” She suggested to Byleth.

Hanneman would have to wait, as Byleth was more concerned about Seteth in the infirmary. Flayn had been with him to take care of his wounds along with Manuela until she joined Rhea for the meeting about the relic. If Flayn was comfortable to leave her brother for that meeting, Byleth was certain Seteth would be recovered and maybe even ready to leave the infirmary.

Seteth lay on a cot, sleeping. Manuela nodded to Byleth, informing her that when he was finished resting he would be free to go. The songstress left without another word, leaving Byleth in the silence of the room. She pulled up a chair next to Seteth’s cot, watching him for a moment.

He slept soundly. His side and arm were bandaged, along with his head. Byleth couldn’t help but feel guilty. As their professor, she had a duty to protect them. She never wanted any of her students to get hurt, and seeing Seteth get so badly wounded before her eyes was devastating. If Hapi and Constance hadn’t been there for immediate healing, she wasn’t sure if he’d make it.

“He will be waking soon.” Flayn said, laying a hand on Byleth’s shoulder. Byleth jumped, exhaling.  
“You scared me.”  
“I am sorry. Thank you for watching out for my brother.” She smiled.

“I wish this didn’t happen in the first place.” She hung her head.

“As do I. But he was stubborn, and used a sword.” Flayn said. “At least, that is what Manuela told me.”  
“No, I think even if he were using a lance, the death knight still would have hurt him greatly. I could have done better.” Byleth frowned.  
“I am grateful.” Flayn nodded. She paused and watched Seteth for a moment longer, before drifting back out of the room.

Byleth sighed, reaching up and holding Seteth’s hand at his side. He stirred, slowly opening an eye.

“Professor?” He grumbled. He inhaled, grunting and yawning, before trying to sit up. “What happened?”  
She squeezed his hand, smiling. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Seteth. You had everyone worried.”  
His face flushed as he glanced down to their hands. “The death knight?”  
“He vanished. But we defended the tomb.” Byleth pulled her hand from his to show him the relic sword she had. “This was what was left in Saint Seiros’s casket.”  
“A relic?” Seteth cocked his head.

“The archbishop is allowing me to hold onto it for now. It’s definitely the real deal.”

Seteth studied the weapon for a moment. “I suppose you will forbid me from using swords any more.”  
“I cannot forbid you from anything. You have a right to explore swordsmanship, and I think being well-rounded in different weapons is a good goal to have.” Byleth explained. Seteth raised his eyebrows. “But maybe for such serious missions you could bring a lance with you just in case, and not rush ahead of everyone else? You may be the house lead, but we still must work together.”

“I…” Seteth swallowed thickly, hesitant. “Thank you, professor.”


	9. Training and Teatime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth picks up a lance as she readies for the next mission. Seteth helps her refine her technique.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohohohoho~
> 
> Seteth loves his classmates. He really does. uwu

Seteth stared down at the training sword in his grasp. After having made a full recovery the first thing he wanted to do was get back to the training grounds and pick up a sword again. Yet when he did, it felt wrong.

“Would you like to train?” Byleth’s voice startled him. She picked up a lance next to him and he stared at it. “How about I try my hand with a lance.”

He scoffed. “You are intentionally trying to lose?”  
She shook her head. “Not at all. I want to be more well-rounded. Sylvain’s brother, Miklan has just run off with the Lance of Ruin. Since Sylvain is now an Ashen Wolf, we should support him. Understanding how to wield a lance may be beneficial for this mission.”

Seteth smiled, still doubting her. “Well then, let us put your skills to the test.” He strode out to the center of the training grounds, taking his stance.  
Byleth followed his lead, readying herself with her lance. Watching her move reminded him much of Jeralt. He nodded to her, signalling he was ready, and anticipated her charge at him.

She was still loose with her lance, the swings too broad and her steps sloppy. Seteth batted her strike away with ease, tracking her faults. He leapt back, opting to dodge and evade her next barrage of jabs before skirting her left. She tried to sweep his feet, but he jumped her lance and closed the distance between them, pointing the end of his sword at her throat.  
“Well done.” Byleth nodded, conceding.

“I know lances well enough to know what to expect. You were no different.” He said, tossing his sword aside. “It’s a shame, really.”

Byleth frowned. “You could at least take it easy--”  
Seteth snatched her arm, adjusting her grip on the spear. “Firm, but flexible. In case you need to slide it back quickly.” Byleth adjusted herself, assuming a stance. He stepped back, then shook his head. “No, your footing is all off. Everything is. Just… here.” He moved behind her, his hands positioning her shoulders, his foot sliding hers aside. “Now, shift your weight and angle your hips here…” He moved closer, his hands sliding to her hips and moving them. Plush and soft, he realized their proximity far too late, getting a whiff of jasmine from her hair. His cock stirred when she glanced over her shoulder at him for reassurance.  
“Like this?” She asked.

His face flushed as he froze. “Y-yes.” His hands felt heavy, and suddenly he did not want to move them from her hips. His breath shook as he inhaled her scent again, his eyes fluttering closed.

“I think I got it. This feels much better and makes more sense.” Byleth said, the words snapping him to his senses. He wrenched himself backward, nearly falling.

“That’s great.” He was breathless. “Let us try again, shall we?”

She didn’t hesitate as she danced around him with several quick jabs. He narrowly deflected them, prising her improvement. When Seteth saw an opening, he rushed against her, battering his sword against the lance to throw her off with the racket. She caught onto his plan to disarm her and quickly pivoted to swing at him. He ducked, diving to sweep her feet. This time he was successful and she tumbled backwards, but not before her lance hooked the back of his knees, sending him to the ground as well. He landed over her, both of them panting.

A faint pink blotched her cheeks as she met his gaze. He could feel his face burning as his body tensed over her. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Suddenly he was very aware of how tight his trousers were.

“Well done.” Byleth muttered.

“I think that is enough for today.” Seteth’s voice cracked as he sprang to his feet. He tossed the training sword back into the weapons rack before brisking out of the training grounds, a bewildered Byleth in his wake.

  
  
  


What better way to rally the Ashen Wolves than by having a tea party? Planning to face off against Miklan and take back the Lance of Ruin in a week, Byleth knew her students would need a morale boost. Sylvain seemed resolute to take down his brother, but after talking to him, Byleth came to a better understanding.

Everyone was on time and already chattering away at tea. Everyone, except for Seteth. While the other Ashen Wolves enjoyed and appreciated the morale boost and camaraderie that teatime brought, Byleth was still concerned about Seteth’s distance. She knew he was different from the other students, more cautious and reserved.

When she was doubting he’d even show up at all, Constance perked up. “Ah, our great leader has decided to join us.”

Seteth stood in the gateway of the tea garden, a box tucked under his arm. “Hello everyone. I am sorry for my tardiness.”

His eyes met Byleth’s for a moment, before he quickly looked away. “I bought a fruit tart for everyone.”

Byleth smiled warmly as the house leader took his seat, serving the tarte to his enthused peers. He was considerate, mindful. He even mentioned he got a piece with extra strawberries, knowing that Yuri favored them. She sat back, observing her students, content to cherish this happy moment.


	10. The Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth goes missing. It's up to the Ashen Wolves to find him!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flayn is so worried about her brother <3

Miklan fell to his brother. While tragic, Sylvain has resigned himself to the deed. Seteth supported him through much of the struggle and grief. Taking on Miklan’s men also wasn’t as much of a challenge, but Byleth was still wary Seteth picked up a sword once again.

After the battle, Rhea was pleased that Byleth mastered the Sword of the Creator, further affirming that the weapon was hers to wield. As Rhea was about to explain the next mission, Flayn burst through the audience chamber doors, running to them.  
“Rhea, have you seen Seteth?” Her voice was frantic.

Rhea furrowed her brow. “No, what’s wrong, Flayn?”

“Have you seen him?” Flayn turned to Byleth.

Byleth shook her head.

“I fear my brother has gone missing. He must be inside the monastery because the gatekeeper would have told me. He would have told me if he were to go anywhere… Where could he be?” Flayn was pale, shaking. “He could be in danger. Oh no…”

Rhea consoled Flayn. “Calm yourself, Flayn. We will find your brother. I will mobilize the knights.”  
“I am certain he has not left the monastery, but after hearing some concerning rumors…” Flayn’s eyes gleamed with tears.

“Professor, with the Knights focusing on searching the town, will you please focus your efforts within the monastery walls? Finding Seteth should be your top priority.” Rhea said.

Byleth nodded. “Anything else I should know?”  
“Rumors say the death knight is prowling around, attacking innocents. I worry that Seteth would not be able to survive such an encounter…” Flayn squeaked.

“He barely did last time…” Byleth said. “I’m certain that same person wounded him badly in the holy tomb.”

“Oh no…” Flayn whispered. “I beg you, please find my brother.”

  
  


“Seteth’s disappeared?” Yuri slid off of the desk at the front of the Ashen Wolves classroom, sliding next to Constance. Hapi folded her arms as Balthus dragged a hand through his hair. Sylvain joined them, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“He usually keeps to himself, so I guess that’s why we didn’t really notice.” Hapi explained.

“There’s rumors of the death knight attacking innocents out in the town… but no evidence.” Byleth reported. “And we’re certain he hasn’t left the monastery walls.”

“Usually he goes off to brood somewhere, but always shows up after a day or so…” Balthus considered.

“If the death knight did take him, that’s not helping his chances…” Sylvain hung his head.  
“We shall find Seteth and conquer such dastardly fiends! We mustn’t dally!” Constance declared, a fire in her eyes.

“Let’s go collect as much information as we can. Triple check Abyss. Every moment matters.” Yuri said.

  
  


A few days passed, until Manuela disappeared. With the students on edge, Byleth hastened her search. Byleth scoured the monastery, beginning to inspect the dormitories of the students and faculty.

“Professor, come quick!” Balthus ran to her, pulling her sleeve.

Byleth raced across the grounds, finding the rest of the Ashen Wolves in Jeritza’s room. “Professor Manuela!” Constance gasped, rushing to her side. Hapi joined her, instantly both of them looking her over.

“Is she okay?” Byleth asked.

“She’s still breathing.” Constance nodded.

“She needs attention. We’ll do our best, but we may need additional help.” Hapi added.

“It looks like she’s pointing to something.” Yuri muttered, looking at her hand.

“Behind that shelf…” Balthus bounded across the room, pulling back the shelf to reveal a passageway.

“What is the meaning of this? Manuela?” Hanneman barged into the room, shocked. “Help me get her to the infirmary!” He pointed to Sylvain as he rushed to pick up Manuela’s limp form.

As Hanneman and Sylvain carried her off, Yuri turned to the passageway. “There’s sounds coming from down there.”  
“Let’s investigate.” Byleth said.

They followed the passage, the scuffling of their footsteps echoing over the stone. Hapi and Constance lit the way with their magic until torches illuminated the passage, opening to a chamber.

“There’s someone there!” Constance gasped, pointing to a form half obscured by shadow.

Byleth raced forward, the light following her. Seteth lay unconscious on the ground, next to a red haired girl. She picked him up, cradling his head in her lap as she checked him over.

“Who is this other person?” Balthus inspected, leaning over the girl.

A glint in the torchlight caught her attention. “Well that’s a familiar… mask.” Yuri spat.

“Death knight.” Byleth growled, gently laying Seteth’s head down and moving between him and the dark foe. She pulled her sword out.

“That sword… You must be…” The modulated voice of the death knight boomed across the chamber. “One of us will die, the other will live. I will enjoy this dance of damnation.”

The death knight appeared behind her by some strange magic, seizing Seteth and vanishing, only to appear behind a plethora of masked soldiers and mages. He muttered something to his men about biding their time until they could escape.

“There’s no time to lose. We need to take them on and save Seteth before it’s too late.” Byleth took her stance, ready to engage.  
“Let’s do this!” Balthus said, buckling his gauntlets and bashing them together. Hapi groaned, keeping close behind him.

Yuri was already ahead of them, slicing through enemies.

On his tail, Constance was cackling as she fired bolts of magic across the chamber. “You complete and utter fools!”

Enemies were decimated. Soldiers and mages lay strewn and slaughtered in their wake. No one was going to harm her students. The death knight escaped behind a door, moving further back until he had nowhere else to run.

Balthus broke down the door, sending it flying into a nearby mage and crushing him against the wall. Hapi and Constance focused their magic on the death knight. Byleth leapt forward, pointing her sword. The death knight set Seteth aside, spinning his scythe as he readied to attack.

“Halt, you’re having a bit too much fun.” Another figure appeared behind him, voice also distorted from their mask.

“You’re getting in the way of my game.” The death knight snarled.

“You’ll have more opportunities to play soon. Your work here is done.”

“Understood. I will go.” The death knight replied. In a flash of light, he vanished.

The other masked figure turned to address them, “We will cross paths again. I am the Flame Emperor. It is I who will reforge the world…” Another flash of light and the second masked figure was gone.

“Where’d they go?” Balthus looked around.

“It doesn’t matter. We need to get these two to safety.” Yuri said.

  
  


Seteth opened his eyes, his vision blurry. A beautiful visage came into focus before him, and he smiled. Was this another wonderful dream?

“You’re here.” He murmured, reaching up toward Byleth.

“He’s awake, Flayn.” Byleth looked up from him and moved back.

“Brother? Brother!” Flayn rushed to his side, hugging him. She began to weep, clutching him tightly. He gasped, pleading for air. After a while she looked back to Byleth, “You have my eternal gratitude. He’s safe… I am indebted to you.”

“I’m just happy he’s safe.” Byleth smiled.

“I too am overjoyed.”  
“Why was he taken to begin with?” Byleth wondered aloud.

Seteth grunted, “I am right here you know.”  
“I am certain the death knight was Jeritza, the professor of the Black Eagles… or rather, former professor. I do not know much of this flame emperor, but I believe that the enemy was after Seteth’s blood.” Flayn explained.

Byleth cocked her head.

“It’s… rare.” Seteth exhaled. “And dangerous.”  
“If enemies know the secrets to your blood, then we have no choice but to leave the monastery and go into hiding.” Flayn hung her head.  
“Sister, wait!” Seteth grabbed Flayn’s hand. “I do not wish to live in a lonely remote location away from everyone. Not ever again.”

“We would be safer, would it not be better for us to live in peace?”

“Even if we were, there would be no guarantee they would not find us.” Seteth replied. “It would be safest to stay in the monastery, surrounded by knights and capable professors.” He met Byleth’s gaze.

Flayn turned to regard Byleth. “Very well. After everything, I do indeed find you trustworthy… and capable of protecting my brother. If only he would not be so reckless himself.” She gave a small chuckle.

“Seteth is a fine student, and I couldn’t live with myself if something were to happen to any of my students.” Byleth said.

“I am glad you are here to look after Seteth. He is all I have.” Flayn smiled.


	11. Monastery Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth recovers from the kidnapping ordeal. Byleth tries to be a good professor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really working on including a lot of the suggestions everyone has left, so I hope that this chapter touches on a few of them!
> 
> went to the doc and got more tests done so we'll see what happens! Until then just trying to pace myself :o Thanks for all the good vibes :D
> 
> btw if anyone has 2020 kinktober prompts I wanna try to do setleth one shots for the month

“P-professor!” Seteth stammered in the doorway of the sauna. His face already red. “I did not expect you to be here.”

“Hello Seteth. An occasional moment in the sauna after training is always good.” Byleth smiled, scooting over to make room for him. He was hesitant to sit with her. “You seem tense.”

The words didn’t help as he stiffened, sitting upright. His hands balled into fists on his knees. He stared straight ahead. Byleth got up and ladled more water onto the stones, a plume of steam fogging the air. She assumed Seteth was probably self conscious and the cover of steam would help him calm down.

“I’m glad your sister has some confidence in me. She was so worried after you went missing.” Byleth stumbled over the start of a conversation.

Seteth stared ahead, frowning. “Just because she does doesn’t mean I fully do. You may have saved me, but with the recent discovery that Jeritza was the death knight, how am I supposed to know you’re not like him?”

Byleth was dumbfounded. She turned to face him fully, incredulous. He glared at her from the corner of his eye.

“Everyone was worried. I looked day and night with your classmates. I don’t know how else I can earn your trust. Especially if you don’t want to give it in the first place.” She sighed, slumping back against the wall. “Seteth, I’m trying my best here. As house leader you should be setting and example. We’re supposed to have a strong relationship.”

Seteth made an uncomfortable noise, shifting.

“I’m doing my best for all of you, and even the other houses. Now that Jeritza is gone, Hanneman, Manuela, and I are collaborating to teach the Black Eagles. I don’t expect you to like me, but at least be civil. What else can I do to make you happy?” She was frank in her tone, dragging a hand through her hair as he glanced at her. His face turned even redder.

“I-I don’t know!” His voice cracked. He turned away, tensing.

“Hey, you look really red. Are you okay? Do you need to step out for a moment?” Byleth reached up and laid a hand on his shoulder.

Seteth shot to his feet. “Yes, of course. It is too hot in here. I must leave.” He walked straight-legged out of the sauna without another word, leaving a confused Byleth behind.

  
  
  


“I’m surprised you had time for tea, sister. You are usually so busy.” Seteth greeted Flayn as she joined him in the tea garden. He poured her a cup, smiling as she inhaled the sweet-apple blend.  
“I will do my best to always make time for you, brother.” Flayn chimed, taking her seat. “Is there something troubling you?”  
“No, not at all.” Seteth shook his head.  
“I am worried. After everything that has happened, I fret that you are still struggling.” She regarded him.

“Not at all. Everyone has been quite supportive. I do have to take it easy while training, though.” Seteth chuckled.

“Would you consider returning to using a lance? Or perhaps an axe?” Flayn asked.

Seteth furrowed his brow. “I do not wish to have this conversation.”  
“The professor expressed her worry when you were recovering.”

His grip tightened around his teacup. “I do not care for the professor.”

Flayn’s eyebrows raised. “You do not like her? But she saved you!”  
“And I am grateful for that, but I still have doubts. From the accounts of my classmates, she allowed the Death Knight to get away.” He sipped his tea.

“I do not think she let him get away. That is not the story I heard at all.” Flayn frowned. “You know, the professor mentioned to me that you haven’t been attentive in classes.”

“I prefer more independent methods of study as of late.” Seteth would rather be anywhere but there in that moment, wanting to talk about anything else. Dread welled in his stomach like a pit.

“Ah, there she is now.” Flayn beamed, nodding across the tea garden.

The pit in Seteth’s stomach swallowed his soul. He blanched, turning to see Byleth and Jeralt were about to sit down at a nearby table for tea. Flayn called them over, insisting they join.

“It’s rare I get to have tea. This is pretty nice.” Jeralt smiled, tousling Byleth’s hair. She groaned, trying to straighten it.  
“Dad! Come on. We really shouldn’t hang around, they deserve to have their own tea time.” Byleth sighed.

Seteth could not bear to look at her.

“That is okay. We were just finishing up. I would love to chat. Have your missions been going well, Jeralt?” Flayn asked.

“Yep. No sign of the Death Knight though. We’ve been looking everywhere for him and that Flame Emperor since…” The man’s eyes settled on Seteth. “Sorry kid. Are you alright?”  
“I am fine.” He bit out.

Jeralt shrugged off the terseness of his reply. “I was just talking to Byleth about the upcoming battle of the Eagle and Lion. I’d love to attend and watch. Are you excited?”

“I am thrilled to see it.” Flayn nearly squealed. “Seteth has yet to decide on a weapon.”  
“Oh, you’re considering switching?” Byleth asked.

Seteth glowered. “I absolutely am  _ not _ .”

“Fair enough.” Byleth sighed. “I understand why, though. Still, you’d be unstoppable with a lance--”

Flayn tutted, “You would do well to listen to the professor, brother.”

“Enough. I do not need this.” Seteth shot to his feet. “I will see you for tea next week, sister.” He huffed, storming away.

  
  
  


Seteth had plenty of difficulty getting Hanneman off his back about his crest and his kidnapping. This didn’t satisfy the crestologist, but he relented, probably assuming that Seteth was still scarred from the events that transpired. However, since he became the talk of the school after being kidnapped, he started to get another type of unwanted attention.

Girls. Fawning over him, whispering behind him, watching him like wolves circling their prey. He would find flowers at his desk, random poems and love notes folded neatly along with boxes of sweets and chocolates. It was utterly humiliating. Girls would flock to him, asking to join him in the dining hall. They didn’t dare approach him if Flayn was nearby, and he was for once grateful for her overprotectiveness and scrutinizing glares of students.

On the training ground he grew even more frustrated as a gaggle of girls watched him, whispering and giggling. He couldn’t bear it, such a thing had never piqued his interest. It was becoming a distraction.

“I see you’ve fallen to the curse.” Sylvain joked, greeting him on the training grounds.  
“Curse?” Seteth asked.  
Sylvain nodded over to the crowd of girls watching from the shade. “It’s a burden to be this handsome, huh?”

“Do shut up. I do not want anything to do with that nonsense.” Seteth grumbled.

“If you want, I could tell them that for you.” Sylvain chuckled.

Seteth raised an eyebrow, “And get an even worse reputation than you already do? Bringing unnecessary drama to the Ashen Wolves? I will not have it. As your house lead--”  
“Right, right. You’re not as relaxed as the others.” Sylvain rolled his eyes.

“I am too relaxed!” Seteth hissed, stomping his foot. Sylvain only replied with a look of doubt.

“Something wrong?” Claude asked. Seteth whirled to see him and Dimitri plodding up toward them.

“Seteth’s having girl problems.” Sylvain said.

“I am not!  _ You  _ are my problem.” Seteth clenched his fists.

“Oh, you have become the latest fixation, hm?” Claude smirked.  
“Just ignore them, it will pass.” Dimitri shook his head.

“Or you could have fun with it.” Claude said.

“See, Claude gets it.” Sylvain gestured to him.

Behind them, Seteth spotted Byleth entering the training grounds, pulling a sword from the weapons rack. His heart fluttered and his cheeks burned. He was furious.

“The training grounds are too crowded. I will take my leave.” Seteth grumbled.  
“And what about your little problem?” Sylvain asked.

“You deal with it.” Seteth snapped.

  
  
  


Byleth wanted to catch up on her lesson plans. The search for Seteth had her falling behind with her planning, so she found herself in the library late one evening. As she turned the corner she stumbled across Seteth. He was asleep at a desk, his head resting on sprawling scrolls and books. He was drooling slightly onto his sleeve.

She stopped for a moment to watch him, not recalling a time where she had seen him so peaceful. He was adorable. For once his brow wasn’t stormy with anger. His thick green hair was swept back into a ponytail that was now disheveled from his snoozing.

Glancing over his shoulder, she spied long notes and books relevant to her latest lectures on strategy. He was probably trying to catch up after having been missing… and failing to pay attention in class. If he studied like he trained, he was probably working himself to exhaustion. His sleeping in the library was proof enough.

Did she dare to wake him? Would he snap at her? Was he the type of person to be cranky when disturbed? Did she want to take that risk? She swallowed and considered alternatives, then an idea sprang to her. She hurried from the library.

Minutes later she returned with a cup of tea. Four-spice blend had a strong aroma. Carefully and quietly, she set it down next to him and away from his arms to avoid a spill.

  
  
  


The warm aroma of tea roused Seteth. He was exhausted, and cursed himself for falling asleep over his studies yet again. Another late night in the library. He sighed, then looked over to see a hot cup of tea placed on the side of his desk.

He glanced around, wondering where this came from, until something caught his eye. The professor was a few meters away, looking through the bookshelves. Again his heart fluttered at the sight, and his cheeks grew warm as the realization dawned on him.

He didn’t dare say anything. She seemed invested in her search anyway. He sipped the tea, smiling. He was grateful, but she didn’t have to know. Instead, he finished what he could of the drink quickly, before gathering his scrolls and books and slinking out of the library without a word.

She didn’t seem to notice.


	12. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth suspects something between Flayn and Byleth. Byleth meets a kind stranger who reminisces about her mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, trying to move things along and tackle the many wonderful suggestions I've had. Some will be more brief than others. I hope you enjoy it!!
> 
> Again, looking for kinktober prompt lists to do kinktober: setleth edition
> 
> also Aelfric in this one doesn't find Sitri's body and is only thirsty for daughter and is creepin'

The battle of the Eagle and the Lion came and went. Ending in a stalemate between the Golden Deer and Blue Lions, Seteth was bitter from his defeat. Shame ate away at him as his classmates seemed to blame their defeat on his recklessness and refusal to wield a lance. Byleth had abstained from the battle, but tried her best to offer him guidance. Ultimately, he did the opposite, frustrated with her not giving his own prowess any confidence or credit.

What irritated him more was that Byleth now split her time with the other classes. The professors were all doing their part to fill in for Jeritza, which meant a bit of shuffling for lectures. Seteth saw Byleth even less and the situation allowed him to catch up on his schoolwork.

Seteth strolled by the classrooms, but stopped and stepped back to regard the Black Eagles’ classroom from the doorway. Byleth was standing and chatting with Hubert. Curious, Seteth hid behind the doorway, listening in.

“Well done Hubert. I can tell from the last battle that your skills have improved greatly. I’m so proud of you.” She smiled.

There was a strange twinge at his heart. Seteth curled his lip in disgust as he continued to listen to her praise Edelgard’s lapdog. There was only a hint of a smile on his pale face, as if he didn’t even fully appreciate the words. Seteth balled his fists at his sides.

“Brother, what are you doing?” Flayn startled him from behind.  
He whirled around, stammering, unable to find an excuse.

“Did you want to speak to the Professor? She and I have a date, you know.” Flayn chuckled.

“Date?” Another twinge at his heart, but then something else. His usual boiling frustration was one thing, but now it was accompanied by a seething rage.

“We are to go fishing!” Flayn chuckled. “You know this.”

Seteth shook, exhaling. “You can’t--”

“Oh hello Flayn, Seteth. Is something going on?” Byleth chimed as she approached the doorway. Hubert slid out past them, exchanging a brief glare with Seteth.

“I thought I would come to get you early today. There’s a rare fish sighted, and I want to put our skills to the test.” Flayn said.

“Oh wonderful, I--” Byleth started but was interrupted.

“No. No.” Seteth growled. “I cannot allow this! You must stay away from my sister!” Seteth pointed a finger in Byleth’s face. Shock and confusion reflected on her and Flayn’s countenance.

“But why?” Flayn gasped.

“A date?  _ Really _ ?” Seteth snarled. “I finally get it. You want to court my sister!” Seteth accused.

Byleth’s eyes grew wide and she was silent, exchanging a glance with Flayn. The two of them burst out laughing. Seteth’s face was already red, turning purple with his fury.

“Do not mock me!”

“Brother, no!” Flayn laughed. “The professor and I are not courting. You should know better.”

Seteth froze. “You… are not?”

“No. While I do admit your sister is quite lovely, I think we’re better off as good friends.” Byleth chuckled, playfully batting her eyes at Flayn.

Flayn giggled, “Seteth, it is quite okay. The professor and I just enjoy throwing around a bit of gossip and swapping old fishing tales.”

Seteth exhaled, his complexion returning to its usual blush from self-induced humiliation. “Oh, well. My apologies, professor.” He hurried off.

As he rounded the corner a hand snatched his shoulder from the shadows. “You were watching me. Why.” Hubert’s icy glare pierced him.

“You are mistaken.” Seteth huffed, tossing Hubert’s hand from his shoulder. “I was watching the professor.”  
“The professor, hm? Have a soft spot for her?” A wicked grin pulled at his lips.

“Quite the opposite. She is… suspicious.” Seteth growled.

“Suspicious? How so?” Hubert seemed intrigued.

“Ask Edelgard how she came out of nowhere and ended up a professor here.” Seteth rolled his eyes. “I don’t need to humor the likes of you.”  
“Very well then.” Hubert hissed, retreating back down the dark corridor.

  
  


Byleth enjoyed her time fishing with Flayn. Casting her line, she said, “So Seteth seems really worked up, huh?”  
“He is very upset about losing the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion.” Flayn sighed, baiting her hook.

“Has he always been so…” Byleth trailed off, searching for the right word.  
“Stubborn?” Flayn chuckled. “Somewhat. But lately he seems--” She stopped, her eyes growing wide with a realization.

“What?”

“Oh dear. I think I need to go.” Flayn whispered, setting her fishing rod aside. “Cast the line for me?” She asked, springing to her feet and hastening off.  
“Flayn? Flayn!” Byleth called after her, befuddled.

She wondered what could possibly send Flayn off so suddenly. Was there something wrong with Seteth? She did tend to worry about him quite a bit…

“Is this seat taken?” A voice snapped her from her thoughts. She looked up to see a brown-haired man looming over her.

“It’s open.” She smiled.

“My name is Aelfric. I knew your mother.” He introduced himself.

Byleth froze, turning and studying him for a moment. “My mother?”  
“Yes, Sitri. You look a lot like her, you know.” He chuckled. “A spitting image, really. I was in disbelief when you came back with Jeralt and he said you were his daughter.”

“He never spoke much of her.” Byleth hung her head.

“Well she was smart, and kind. We were good friends back then. She was raised here in Garreg Mach, and I arrived when I was quite young as an orphan. We grew up together.” Aelfric explained.  
“I’m sure you have plenty of stories to tell.” Byleth was delighted. “Think you could share a few while we fish?” She picked up Flayn’s rod and handed it to him.

“Of course.” He smiled.

  
  


“I saw you talking to Aelfric out on the fishing dock yesterday.” Jeralt said, sipping his tea.

“Yeah. He said he knew my mother. He told me all sorts of stories.” Byleth smiled. “Why haven’t you ever told me much of her?”

Jeralt looked away. “It’s too painful to bear. And when I look at you, I see so much of her, kid.”

Byleth stared at the cup of tea in her hands. “So you know Aelfric too?”

“We’re acquainted. He was more of a friend of your mother’s.” Jeralt explained. “He was always a decent fellow. Seeing him now… something’s off.”

“Off?”  
“Not sure. But that’s not the man I knew all those years ago. Be careful around him, will ya?”

“Dad… don’t worry. It seems like he’s a decent man. I’d like to learn more about my mother from him. Especially if you can’t tell me--”

Jeralt stood up. “Come on, then.” Byleth set down her tea, surprised. He glanced over his shoulder, “Well? You coming or not?”

She nodded, following him across the grounds to a quiet corner. Down a flight of stairs there was a manicured landscape, kept neat. It was silent, gray tombstones marking the final resting place of souls long gone. She held her breath as Jeralt stopped in front of one.

“Here she is.” Jeralt sighed. “She loved flowers. Whenever I brought her back an unusual flower, her face would light up. I cherished those memories. I can’t tell you how many times she made me happy just by smiling.” A wistful grin pulled at his lips, his eyes shimmering as he looked at the stone grave. “She smiled most when she was pregnant with you. She died right after you were born, not getting to spend much time with you. But she loved you with all her heart. That’s the truest thing I know. Never forget it.” He fumbled in his pockets before holding out something shiny to Byleth. Light caught in the facets, dancing across Jeralt’s palm.

“This ring is the only keepsake I have of her. In time, it will be yours. One day, I hope you’ll give this ring to someone you love as well as I love her.”

Byleth’s eyes burned. She embraced her father, and they stood in silence before the grave for some time, honoring her mother’s memory.


	13. Puberty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth has a wet dream and grows increasingly frustrated. Flayn has to break the news to him: it's puberty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's so frustrated you can practically see the steam shooting out of his ears.
> 
> SETETH CALM DOWN YOU'LL GET SOME... in like 5 years lmao
> 
> Flayn knows what's up and is trying to be a good parent and not keep her kid in the dark  
> She may or may not also be starting to explore the possible merits of having Byleth as a daughter in law

The breeze in her hair. The sway of her hips. Her voice like a melody.

Seteth’s throat tightened as the professor at last gave him her undivided attention. She was straddling him, smiling down at him. His heart raced, his body on fire. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

In a blur she was naked, as was he. She trailed her fingers down his chest, brushing against his cock already at half-mast. He groaned. She whispered nothings in his ear, pressing her body flush against his.

He bucked his hips upwards, and she slid over him, warm and tight. “Mmm, professor.” He rasped. He thrust into her, picking up a pace. She sighed, taking him, riding him. She leaned forward, drawing his lips in a kiss.

The feeling was overwhelming. His moan was loud, jolting him awake. He sat up, panting, cursing. Glancing down, he lamented his soiled sheets. How could he have dreamt of something so lewd? And of the professor, no less!  
There was a knock on his door. “Brother, are you okay?” Flayn’s muffled voice came.

“Yeah, fine.” He replied weakly. “I just… I just had a nightmare.” It certainly couldn’t be called anything else.

  
  


“Seteth, your last written exam was lacking.” Byleth sighed, handing him back his paper at the end of class. He refused to look her in the eye. “Is there something going on?”

He only muttered in response, too incoherent for her to catch. She sighed, watching him leave, worry creeping into her thoughts. Such a mindset was always a risk for missions. She was lost in her thoughts, worrying over Seteth when a voice pulled her back to reality.

“Is everything alright, Byleth?”

Byleth looked up to see Aelfric before her, holding a bouquet of flowers. “Everything’s fine. The students always have me worried over something.” She joked.

Aelfric offered her the bouquet. “For you.”

“How sweet.” Byleth beamed. “It's so rare for me to get flowers. This is so kind. Thank you Alefric.”

“Would you like to go for a walk with me? I remembered some more stories I’d love to share with you.” He said.

She nodded, joining his side as they walked the grounds. He regaled her with tales of his youth with Sitri, how they’d bake together in the kitchen or make messes in the greenhouse. He was pleasant company, and Byleth didn’t notice how close he came in proximity until a cold voice interrupted them.

“Professor, might I have a word?” Hubert asked, as if he emerged from nowhere.

Caught off guard, Byleth stammered out a “yes,” leaving Aelfric behind.

“I appreciate you teaching the Black Eagles and your kindness to Lady Edelgard. I was wondering if you would like to take some future trips with us to Enbarr.” Hubert regarded her with his usual scrutinizing gaze.

“That sounds lovely. But I do have to mind the other classes since, well… you know.” She didn’t know how close Hubert had been to his former professor, but she did not wish to offend or upset him.

On the contrary, he seemed unphased. “Very well then. I shall extend the offer when the time grows near. Lady Edelgard hopes you will accept and join us.”

As odd as it was, she expected such interactions from Hubert. When she turned back to look for Aelfric, he had vanished. Byleth was still grateful for the stories of her mother. Even though Jeralt tried to share more tales of his wife during their tea time together, it was often too difficult for him to continue.

  
  


Seteth watched Monica whisper with Edelgard on the training grounds. Something about the girl was strange, but he could not tell. She eyed him with the same menacing grin that she gave everyone, and he reciprocated with the same glare he gave everyone.

He continued to train, focusing on swords, though he resigned himself to picking up a lance for whatever future mission awaited him. Claude and Dimitri joined him to train that day, and he was glad to be in such amicable company. At least he always had the confidence that all the other house leaders were fine and respectable individuals… even if a certain Golden Deer had a past time of preparing poisons.

The sweat and bruises from the training grounds were almost enough to free his mind of the professor. Almost.

As he, Claude, and Dimitri made their way to the sauna after a hard afternoon’s workout, Flayn and Byleth crossed their path. He quickly fell behind his peers, glancing away, praying that he would not converse with them.

“Why hello teach, Flayn!” Claude’s usual bravado echoed across the walkway.

“Professor.” Dimitri chimed. “Hello Flayn.”

“I see you three have been training hard. I’m so proud of how dedicated you are.” Byleth said.

Claude glanced over his shoulder, eyeing Seteth brooding. “You hear that Seteth? Teach is happy with how  _ hard  _ you’ve been working.”

“Do shut up.” Seteth growled.

“Seteth, you are a house leader. At least have the proper manners to greet the professor and your sister.” Dimitri half-teased.

“You’ve already done so, why should I bother!” He snapped, hurrying up the stairs to the sauna. Claude and Dimitri snickered behind him.

  
  
  


Byleth turned to Flayn as the boys left for the sauna. “Seteth’s been acting really… odd lately. He refuses to acknowledge me half the time. Is there something going on?”  
Flayn chuckled. “Oh I had a hunch, but now I am certain. He is going through puberty.”

Byleth pursed her lips, blushing. “Oh dear. I am so sorry to pry. That was very unprofessional of me.”

“Do not worry, Byleth.” Flayn consoled her. “I do not think he even realizes it yet.”

“Right. Say, do you know much about Aelfric?”

“Somewhat. He has spent most of his life here at the monastery. He works hard to maintain Abyss. He used to be the professor for Ashen Wolves a few years ago, but decided he was better suited for other work.” Flayn explained.

“He used to know my mother, and has told me lots of stories about growing up with her, but I hardly know anything about him now.” Byleth said. “He seems nice enough, but dad is a little wary of him.”

Flayn shrugged. “Aelfric is a trusted member of the church. If your father wants you to be cautious, then you should probably listen to him.”  
“He didn’t really give me a good reason…”

“Sometimes parents don’t have the words to explain their reasoning. But it is always worth it to heed their words.” Flayn seemed to stare off in the distance.

“I suppose.” Byleth half-doubted.

  
  
  


“Why are we having tea in private?” Seteth asked, sitting down in the chair across from Flayn’s desk. Her office was cozy, quiet. Somewhere in the room a clock ticked away.

“Brother,” Flayn closed the door behind her. “We need to have a little talk.”  
“My grades are fine, and I am sticking to the sword--” Seteth started, but Flayn raised a hand to halt him.

“I could not help but notice your strange behavior lately. You are grumpier than usual.” She smirked, folding her hands on her desk. “I know things are a bit… different for us in regards to the passage of time…”

“Oh.” Seteth replied softly. It was rare that Flayn ever spoke to him of such things, much of their nature went unsaid.

“You will be experiencing a growth spurt soon.” Flayn explained. “And no doubt you are already experiencing  _ feelings _ .”

“Feelings?”

“You are going through puberty, Seteth.” Flayn said flatly. The words were jarring.

“Puberty?” His voice cracked.

“Well you’re dealing with hormones, moodiness, trying to navigate your identity as you lay the foundation of adulthood…” She was almost poetic, making a grand gesture into the empty air. He frowned. “And I see how the professor has caught your attention.” She giggled.

His frown warped into a scowl as his heart raced. “Absolutely not! I abhor the idea!”

Flayn cocked an eyebrow. “Are you certain you do not fancy the professor? Because I could help you cope--”

“I do not! The very idea is appalling. She is the most loathsome person I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. Smug, know-it-all, busybody--” Seteth babbled, fuming.

“Very well then. You do not need to convince me.” Flayn giggled, but her true thoughts were apparent in her tone. It only made him angrier. “If you have concerns or questions, please let me know. I found some books in the library that may be of assistance. Puberty has some very common signs across many different--”

Seteth shot to his feet, slamming his hands on her desk, “I get it! Please, no more of this talk.”

“Just try to manage yourself. Don’t let your emotions overwhelm you. It could be dangerous, especially in battle.” Flayn warned.

“Yes, yes. I understand.” Seteth waved her off, already halfway through the door.


	14. Calamity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth is wary of Aelfric. Flayn warns him, desperate to explain the changes he is about to experience. He will not listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna be doing Kinktober so idk if that will slow progress on this, but there isn't enough smut here so I have to put it SOMEWHERE yeehaw  
> Checkout my Setleth Kinktober and take a look at the prompts. Or if you have ideas of your own, leave a comment!
> 
> waiting on test results and boy am I tired!

“There’s something going on in Remire Village. We’re being dispatched first thing in the morning to take care of it.” Byleth explained to Aelfric.

“If Jeralt is going, surely there is no need for you to come along. I’m certain your students can handle it.” Aelfric cooed. The disappointment in his voice was apparent when she refused to join him for an evening walk.

“We’ve been spending a lot of time together, Aelfric.” Byleth laughed nervously. There was a ravenous look in Aelfric’s eye. He moved closer, backing her into a corner in the corridor.

“I think I can change your mind. Please, allow me to show you something…” He held out his hand, his other arm extended to block her in to the corner.

Byleth stared at it.

“Professor! There you are.” Seteth’s voice caught her attention. Her heart sank in relief when she saw him behind Aelfric. For a split second a snarl crossed the man’s face, only to be replaced with his usual docile expression as he glanced to Seteth over his shoulder.  
“Do run along, Seteth. We are having a discussion.” Aelfric said flatly.

Seteth glanced to Byleth who gave him a pleading expression. He tensed, stepping closer and puffing out his chest. He glared at Aelfric.

“The professor promised me we would train the night before every mission.” He asserted. “Would you rather I train with you?” He took another step closer, squaring his shoulders.

Aelfric snatched Byleth’s arm, pulling her close to him. “I told you, we are busy. Leave us.”

“Aelfric, please.” Byleth winced. “Take it easy.” Aelfric turned to her, his expression worried. He eased his grip immediately, apologizing softly.

She shook her head and sighed, sliding past him and pulling her arm back. Aelfric hung his head as she left with Seteth. Once they were around the corner they picked up their pace, hurrying away.

“Are you alright?” Seteth asked once he felt they had made good distance.

“Yes. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” She shook her head. “You came just in time. I had no idea what I was going to do.”

“Do you still wish to train?” He asked.

She nodded. “I think it will take my mind off of… whatever that was.”

They found the training grounds deserted, and Byleth was able to relax once she had a training sword in her hands. Seteth opted for a lance, giving her a challenge.

“You’ll be pleased to know I have opted for lances tomorrow.” Seteth smirked, half-gloating in his fresh victory over her. She pulled herself to her feet, dusting off.

“Well done. I’m glad you decided that route.” She said. “Whatever is going on in Remire, it sounds pretty serious. I don’t want you taking any risks.”

He smiled before asking, “Again?”

Her answer was cut short by Hubert emerging from the shadows. “Why hello professor.”

Seteth moved between them in an instant, holding his lance at the ready. “What do you want, Hubert?”  
“Simply to have a conversation.” Hubert chuckled.

“Stay away from her, she’s had enough conversations tonight.” Seteth snarled.

Byleth laid a hand on the house leader’s shoulder. “Seteth, it’s okay. It’s just Hubert.”

“Now I’m offended. Just Hubert?” Hubert acted as if hurt by the words, melodramatic.

Seteth looked at her for a moment and relaxed, stepping back, yet still remaining close. Byleth was amused at how he was behaving in contrast to his usual hateful demeanor, but didn’t dare mention it. She much preferred an angry student to Aelfric in that moment.

“I trust you will be better prepared than that for tomorrow.” Hubert said.

“How long have you been watching us?” Byleth asked.

“A better question would be why the other person who has been watching hasn’t yet revealed themselves.” He looked past Seteth to the side.

Byleth looked to see Flayn emerge from the shadows. “Well that was quite unexpected.” Flayn chuckled. “I just wanted to observe. Seteth doesn’t like it when I watch him train.”  
“Sister! How dare you spy on me!” Seteth huffed.

“Family matters aside,” Hubert said. “I wondered if you wanted to join the Black Eagles on their mission tomorrow. There’s some bandits on the main road to Enbarr.”

“Sorry Hubert. I don’t mean to belittle the issue of bandits, but it sounds like the situation in Remire is really… messed up for a lack of a better term.” Byleth sighed.

“A shame, we could really use your help. Lady Edelgard will be most disappointed.” He replied. “Well then, I bid you good evening.” Hubert sank back into the shadows, leaving them.

Byleth then turned to Flayn, “Now I can understand Hubert being sneaky, but you Flayn? Where did you get that skill?”

“Do not worry about me. I was just hoping I could speak to Seteth before the mission tomorrow. You seem especially busy lately, brother. Have you been avoiding me?” Flayn asked.

Seteth grumbled. “I guess you are off the hook for training, professor. I will see you tomorrow.”

“Alright then. Well have a good night, you two!” She chimed.

  
  
  


Once Byleth had left the training grounds Seteth snapped at Flayn, “What do you want?”

“You were very aggressive towards Hubert. I hope no other males crossed your path while you were with her.” Flayn arched an eyebrow, regarding him.

“As a matter of fact, I ran into Aelfric looking for her.” He folded his arms. “Is there some sort of problem?”

“You seem very protective of her. Another sign of your--”

Seteth threw up a hand to stop her. “Do not say it, I do not wish to hear it.”

“You need to understand that the changes you experience will be different from others.” Flayn stomped her foot. “Please, listen to me! If you feel other males are encroaching on your--”

“Stop it!” Seteth bellowed.

“You would do well to listen.” Her tone was low in warning. “You will find yourself getting into fights and you could risk exposing us both.”

Seteth froze, sucking in a breath. “I have control over myself. I’m not an  _ animal _ .”

Flayn scoffed.

  
  
  


“Is that… Tomas?” Byleth gasped, pointing across the battlefield to the pale figure hunched over behind a line of enemies.

“Impossible…” Seteth breathed.  
“Fools! I am Solon, savior of all.” In a flash of light Tomas’s likeness warped into a shadowy image with a blackened eye. “You were so easily fooled by my disguise…” The village burned around them as the rest of the Ashen Wolves raced to help the inhabitants. “I was hiding away in Garreg Mach to get the blood of that young man called Seteth. With his blood, we’ll be one step closer to realizing our goal.”

“Looks like we’ve got company.” Jeralt growled, pointing his lance across the battlefield. “The Death Knight must be an ally of Tomas… or Solon or whoever he is.”

Solon raised a bony finger pointing to Seteth. “Capture him, incapacitate him, do what you must, just do not kill him! We need his blood.” Byleth stepped before Seteth as if to shield him from Solon’s focus.

She glanced over her shoulder, “Stay with me.” She said. Seteth’s heart fluttered as he nodded, readying to fight. A line of soldiers charged them.

Byleth swung the Sword of the Creator, unleashing its power. It cut through the line, sending soldiers scattering, some crumpling to the ground. Seteth lunged after her, striking down those who dared draw close. Jeralt joined them, and the three of them felled their foes swiftly before finally reaching Solon. The rest of the Ashen Wolves turned their attention to the Death Knight, closing in on the remaining battalion.

“Let’s capture him.” Jeralt said, leading the charge.

Byleth followed behind, making a flurry of blows as Jeralt drew Solon’s attention. The old man hissed, wounded. He fired a blast of magic at her, but Seteth leapt in to deflect it. Jeralt took the opportunity to strike another blow.

“Why here? Why Remire?” Jeralt demanded.

“I could have conducted this experiment on any village. Now that I have what I came for, I must bid you farewell.” In a flash of light he vanished.

Seteth swore, vengeance denied from him.

The remaining men surrounded the Death Knight, desperately trying to defend from the rest of the Ashen Wolves. Upon seeing Solon vanish, they followed his lead, disappearing into nothing. Seteth let out a furious howl, falling to his knees and pounding the ground.

“We let them escape!”

“We will find them again,” Byleth laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I will not let them get away with what they did…”

“Nor will I.” Her tone was resolute, her expression stern as he met her gaze.

  
  


Their return to Garreg Mach was bitter and solemn. While the remaining villagers were safe, many still died at the hands of Solon’s sick experiment. Jeralt was once again dispatched on a further mission to investigate while a restless Byleth returned to her duties as professor.

Byleth sat with Flayn, trying to relax as they fished together. “It seems things are not getting any easier for either of us.” Flayn sighed.

“What do you mean?” Byleth asked.

“Well, there is trouble with the Western Church again. There are… radicals that must be dealt with. It is a small insurrection, and Rhea has asked me to handle it.” She explained.  
“Alone?” Byleth was incredulous.

“Yes. This particular faction has taken up residence in a place that is very close to my heart. The tomb of St. Cethleann. It’s also the grave of my husband.” Flayn explained.

“Would you allow me to join you?”

“I couldn’t ask that much of you, professor. Not after what you have been through with Remire so recently.” Flayn said.

“No, I’m going. This sounds important, and I want to be there for my friends.” Byleth nodded.

Flayn smiled. “Allow me a few days to gather some things and prepare for my absence. The monastery cannot function without me.”


	15. An Ocean View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth begs Flayn to join them as they address the insurgents on the Rhodos coast. Unexpected discoveries await them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE PARALOGUE, BUT SWITCHED UP!
> 
> Also EGGY BOIS
> 
> Seteth gets Pebbles and Claude gets Pasha (names are commonly used in the fandom from what I've seen) so I'll come up with some way they name them and spend time together, etc.

Byleth expected to meet Flayn by the gate, ready to assist her on her mission. She didn’t expect Seteth to be there.

“Sister you must let me come with you. You are going to the Rhodos coast, are you not?” He asked.

“Yes, Seteth, but it is too dangerous for you. Even with a lance, I would not want you dealing with these radicals.” Flayn sighed. “I am not going there to pay respects.”

Seteth spotted Byleth then blurted, “What if I stay with the professor. She could come with and that way you would not have to worry.”

Flayn furrowed her brow, “It is true that the Professor was to join me. But I hadn’t considered you coming along as well. I suppose…” She looked between them. “If you stay together.”

Byleth sighed, “Very well.” She didn’t really want to babysit Seteth, knowing he’d most likely have an attitude with her during much of the trip. She was honestly hoping for some time to spend alone with a friend, away from the students. “Just don’t go out of your way to get into trouble. Stay in my range, alright?”

Seteth inclined his head, meeting her gaze, “I will not leave your side.”

“Great.” She was less than enthused.

Flayn chuckled, leading them onward across Fodlan.

\---

Seteth wasn’t particularly fond of the Professor, but he would hold true to his word. Staying close had her lovely scent wafting into his nose, drawing him closer. Yet when Flayn would glance over her shoulder to check on them, he drew back again, realizing his folly. He didn’t need to look like an idiot now, or ever. He had to get a hold of himself and whatever instinct was driving him. He couldn’t admit to his mother that she was right, or that maybe he should have listened to her more about the caveats of Nabataean puberty, but surely it couldn’t get any worse than the heightened sense of smell and the aggressiveness towards other males. Of that, he was certain.

The sea breeze greeted him by ruffling his emerald locks. It had been long since he had seen the azure sea, glittering in the sun, spread out beyond the pale sands. The serene setting was foiled by the presence of the Western Church, who were ready for them.

“You heretics who defile our goddess! The sacred coast belongs to us, the Western Church!” A priest spat, signaling for his mages and soldiers to charge.

“I will take back the monument, focus on distracting them, Professor.” Flayn nodded, dashing down along the coast until she was wading into the sea along a sandbar. Light magic whirled around her hands as she shot blasts into the few who stood in her way. “Seteth, stay close to the Professor!”

Seteth interpreted this as defend the Professor, leaping ahead of her to engage with their enemies.

“Seteth, what are you doing? Stay back!” Byleth snapped. “There’s too many of them!”

He soon saw his reckless folly, struggling to keep the mages at bay with his lance. A blast of fire blindsided him and he grunted, his knees buckling. He swung out at the swordsmen closing in.

“There’s too many.” Byleth cursed, lunging between Seteth and his foes.

A bishop charged from his exposed side. He leapt to his feet, pulling back his lance to try and defend himself. As their magic charged in their hands there was a whizzing sound past his ear as an arrow struck the bishop down.

Seteth whirled around to see Claude and Dimitri emerge from the woods. “I figured you’d go have fun without us.”

“Professor, you should have told us you were leaving on a mission. We would have gladly helped, you need only ask.” Dimitri added.

Seteth had never been so relieved to see them in his life. As they hurried across the sand, the Ashen Wolves appeared along the treeline behind them. He waved to them, beaming.

Byleth didn’t have time for pleasantries, ordering the Ashen Wolves to take the flank along the forest. Without hesitation Balthus and Yuri charged ahead while Constance and Hapi supported from the rear. Dimitri and Claude raced to their side, felling the line of enemies that came too close.

Beyond them, Flayn was traversing the sea toward the monument, unrivaled. Seteth focused his attention to continue pressing forward, staying at Byleth’s side and never allowing much distance between them. The barrage of attacks on them had something deep inside him stirring, lashing out any time a blast of magic came too close to Byleth or when she took a hit from a lance.

His vision went red when she was blasted with a bolting, stumbling to her knees and grunting. Seteth charged into a group of foes, blinded by rage, letting his fury fly through his lance. He leapt up, his lance making a mighty uppercut and felling a priest. He swung down, slashing a soldier and kicking him backward until he collapsed. In the corner of his eye, light magic whirled around Byleth as Flayn healed her from afar. Good as new, she pressed on. While he was relieved, fury still burned through him.

Flayn felled the last insurgent at the monument as the Ashen Wolves rallied with the Professor, Dimitri, and Claude over their victory. While Seteth was reluctant to leave Byleth’s side, knowing she was now safe, he went to join his mother.

They stood in silence over the grave, marked by a series of monoliths with glowing runes. Flayn laid some wildflowers over the grave of her husband, his father. He held her hand, squeezing it tightly in assurance. With the insurgents gone, tranquility was restored to the monument.

“I am glad you brought flowers.” Seteth said after a moment.

“It is what I came here to do.” Flayn replied quietly.

Byleth joined them, placing a hand on Flayn’s shoulder. “Is everything alright?”

Flayn smiled softly, “I must confess, despite the situation it is a pleasure to come here. This place has a certain sentimental significance to my brother and me.” Byleth gave her an inquisitive look. “This stone monument is not merely here to commemorate Saint Cethleann. It is also the grave of my husband.”

Seteth inhaled, turning and whispering a prayer. “You are safe now, father. Finally you may find peace.”

“Your mother is also buried here?” Byleth asked Flayn.

She sighed, “I suppose you have earned the right to know.” Seteth whirled around, his heart leaping into his throat. “This must remain between us. Seteth is actually my son. My late husband and his father are the same person.”

Byleth furrowed her brow, “I… suspected as much.” She looked between them.

“And here I thought I had hidden it skillfully.” Flayn chuckled. “There are many who would seek to harm Seteth due to the unique blood that he bears. Falsifying his identity is necessary to conceal him from such individuals. Mercifully, I happen to look quite young for my age. We make rather convincing siblings, do we not?”  
“True enough.” Byleth smiled.

“Father loved the coast so much. He and I came here together often. Fishing was his favorite pastime. I used to sit and watch while he cast his line.” Seteth said.

“I remember it fondly. We loved to eat the fish she caught, as well.” Flayn sighed. “I sometimes come back here to fish. It reminds me how deeply I appreciate those years, and how I wish I could return to them…”

“We cannot turn back the clock, mother. We must live our lives fully, in the present moment.” Seteth said.

“You’re right. That is what he always said, isn’t it?” Flayn asked. “Come then, let us return home.” She nodded to Byleth as they turned to leave.

Seteth turned back to face the monument. “Goodbye father. I love you. I shall bring you flowers next time.” He stared at the stone for a moment before something behind it caught his eye. “Hm?”

“Hey Seteth, you coming?” Claude bounded up to his side. “Hey what’s that?”

Seteth curled around the side of the monument until he saw a large nest made of seagrass and driftwood. In it were two large eggs. Before he could say anything, Claude gasped, snatching one up in his arms.

“Claude, no that’s a--”  
“A wyvern egg, yeah!” Claude chirped. “It must be our lucky day. We can take them back to the monastery and raise them as our own. It’s what they do in Almyra.”

Seteth furrowed his brow. Wyverns were independent creatures and often nests were abandoned by parents since the eggs were so large and sturdy. Usually the baby wyverns would find their way to a nearby flock without issue, which made them easy to tame and raise.

“You can’t be serious, Claude.” Seteth sighed. “You’re really going to take it on an impulse?”  
“Come on, Seteth. Haven’t you ever been impulsive in your life?” Claude asked.

“Seteth? Claude? Are you coming?” Byleth called to them. He looked to her, then back at the remaining egg.  
“I suppose this would mean I am done with swords.” Seteth gave a small smile, picking up the remaining egg and hugging it close to his chest. He nodded to Claude, who held his egg in the same way. “Let’s go.”


	16. Purr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth has a weird dream, then wakes up purring. When he realizes he can't control the purring, he rushes to Flayn for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he's a dragon, y'all
> 
> also he has convinced himself his relationship with the professor is strictly professional (subconsciously he's absolutely smitten)
> 
> He has so much on his mind... switching weapons, raising a baby wyvern soon, he was considering asking to dance for the white heron cup... he doesn't need to worry about PURRING on top of all this! Let alone transforming!

His bones cracked, and his skin prickled as scales bloomed like flowers over his arms. Horns ripped through his skin, crowning his head. He groaned as wings emerged from his back as if they were ripping free. Seteth roared.

He sat up, his roar turning into a scream. Sweat trickled down his brow as he looked around and then heard the morning bell. The Monastery was awakening and he was fine. He caught his breath. A knock on his door startled him.

Flayn’s faint voice called, “Seteth, are you alright?”

“Y-yes. I’m fine.” He replied, his voice shaky and cracking. He glanced down seeing the egg nestled peacefully against his side. Grateful he did not harm it in his sleep, he curled around it. A purr rumbled from this throat for a moment before he stopped himself. Snapping up, he shook his head.

The past few days he and Claude carried around their eggs in sashes against their bodies, as if they were babies. Claude explained to Seteth the Almyrans did this to imprint on the hatchlings and make a stronger bond with them. Seteth did want to get attached to his future mount, but the purring was something new.

  
  
  


“Still carrying it around, I see.” Byleth observed, referring to his egg. “Can I see it?”

Seteth blushed. He had been reluctant to allow anyone to hold the egg. Even when Claude picked his up to examine it, he couldn’t stifle the soft growl that came. Yet he willingly handed it from its nesting place against his chest to her.

He watched as she cradled it, drawing close. Again the purr rolled in his chest as he regarded Byleth with his baby--no egg. It was an egg. And he was purring.

“Seteth?” She asked, “What’s that noise?”

He stopped immediately. “What noise?” He blushed.

“I guess… ah, nothing. So when do you think it will hatch?” She asked, handing the egg back to him. He secured it back in the satchel against his chest.

“Claude is more familiar with these things. He says soon, though.” Seteth smiled down at his egg.

  
  


Flayn sat with Byleth for tea. It had been a week since the Rhodos Coast, and things were finally feeling normal. Knowing Flayn was actually Seteth’s mother seemed to give them both a deeper understanding of one another, their friendship growing stronger.

“So the White Heron Cup is coming up. You will need to pick a student in your house to compete in the dancing competition.” Flayn explained. “It’s a special tradition. Do you have anyone in mind?”

“Oh uh… well I’ve not really heard of this.” Byleth stammered.

“Well dancing can grow to be a fine skill, if the student you pick shows potential. It could even prove useful in battle.” Flayn explained.

“Dancing? In battle?” Byleth nearly spat out her tea.

“Why, yes. It’s a type of movement and special kind of magic, it helps raise morale and can strengthen allies in different ways. Dancing isn’t just a movement. When someone invests in it, it can be a valuable tool.” Flayn explained.

“Interesting.” Byleth nodded.

“It’s something to consider. You should probably pick a student before the end of the month so that they can compete the next month. They’ll need time to practice.” Flayn said.

Of course, after that all of the Ashen Wolves seemed to ask her to represent their house. With Lorenz and Leonie newly recruited to the house, there were two more names in the ring to choose from. To distract herself from the pressure of the selection, she decided to vent her frustrations on the training grounds.

  
  


Seteth picked up an axe swinging it around as he practiced his forms at the training grounds. Claude joined him, the two growing close since they found the eggs. Nearby the eggs both were set aside as if they were watching the boys train.

After sparring, Claude sighed. “Beaten again. I think I’m gonna call it a day. Good work, Seteth.” He grinned, shaking hands.

“You too.” Seteth smiled, resuming his forms.

He lost track of time when the professor called to him, “Oh hello Seteth. Training with an axe?” She looked surprised as he turned to greet her, his heart fluttering.

“Well, yes.” He blushed.

“I didn’t know you fancied axes as well.” Byleth crossed her arms. “Are you as good with them as you are with lances, I wonder?”

“Do you want to find out?” Seteth smirked. A challenge.

Byleth snatched up a sword from the weapons rack, accepting his challenge. “I noticed you’ve shifted your interest away from swords. Any reason why?” She asked.

Seteth nodded toward his egg as he circled her. “I plan on raising a mount. Axes and lances are preferable for such classes.”

“I see. Are you happy with the decision to move away from swords?” She asked.

“I suppose I will find out in time.” He said, a contented smile on his face. “For now, I am okay.”

“Then have at me!” Byleth bellowed, beckoning to him.

He charged, raising his axe. She rose her sword to defend, easily using the weapon’s advantage over his. The clang rang out over the grounds. She drew back and stepped aside, and he tumbled forward with his remaining momentum.

Seeing her overconfidence, Seteth opted to change his strategy, focusing less on the edge of the axe and more on the weapon as a blunt tool for grappling. He loosened his grip on the handle, swinging the weapon backward as he lunged toward her. She dodged aside, then slid under another swing to try and trip him.

He caught onto her move, leaping forward and tackling her, hooking the handle of the axe under his chin. She struggled, but his grip was tight as he pinned her down from behind. She wriggled to break free, her ass rubbing up against his crotch. His face flushed, but he did not withdraw, instead trying to focus on the fray.

“Yield!” He snarled. Though in his mind he was begging her before his cock grew any harder.

“Alright, alright.” She heaved, falling limp under him to catch her breath.

He panted, but at the same time the purr welled up in his chest.

“Seteth… are you… purring?” She whimpered. Her face turned away from him, so he couldn’t tell her reaction.

He balked, “I--I need to go.” He dropped his axe and leapt to his feet. He grabbed his egg and hurried out of the training grounds.

He rushed to Flayn’s office, hurriedly slamming her door shut and locking it. Bewildered, Flayn looked up from her work. He caught his breath for a few moments before sinking down into the chair across from her.

“Purring.” He blurted, setting his egg gently aside.

“Oh dear. This is… further along than I anticipated.” She sighed. “Are you going to actually listen this time?”

“Please, I need it to stop.” He pleaded.

She sighed. “It is not going to stop. Is there anything that causes you to purr?”  
“Well… the egg. This morning I had this dream and I was worried I might have accidentally harmed it and--”

“A dream? Was it a transformation dream?” She asked quietly.

He nodded. “How did you know?”

“This is a  _ lot  _ further along than I thought…”

“So it’s bad?” He gulped.

“No. But you may have to leave for a month or so soon. You’re going to go through your first growth spurt.” She sighed.

“Growth spurt?”  
“Seteth… It has been years since I could transform. I was thankful when you never did. But if you had the dream, then you may yet do it. And it may be very soon. It is something I always feared. We may have to hide you somewhere.”  
“I do not want to go back into hiding!” Seteth gasped.

“And how would I explain the dragon in the classroom, then?” Flayn huffed. “Tell me if you have this dream again. If they begin to happen frequently, and if you cannot control your purring, then we will need to find somewhere where you can safely wait it out. Consider yourself lucky you aren’t purring around  _ people _ . That would be a  _ disaster _ .”

“A disaster?” He squeaked.

“Do not worry. Let us count our blessings. I will plan accommodations for you and that way everything will be ready the second you start to feel it.” Flayn chuckled. “I know it is a scary time in your life, but I promise you will survive.”

“Thank you.” He glanced over at the egg. “What about the wyvern?”  
“Well if you are purring at it already, it will be perfectly safe wherever you go.” She smiled. “Again, do not worry. Just let me know if things progress. You may get territorial of your egg, so do not let it out of your sight. Your instinct may kick in and you may act rashly.”

He took a deep breath, nodding. Gathering up his egg, he retreated to his room. Why didn’t he tell Flayn about purring around Byleth? No, he couldn’t. It was a coincidence. Sparring was like him protecting his egg. And when she held it, he knew it was safe and in his sight. It had nothing to do with her. He definitely was not purring at the professor.


	17. The Hatchling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth gets chosen for the White Heron Cup. Claude warns that their eggs will hatch soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seteth is a dragon dad in a sense  
> lol
> 
> Also more canon divergence: I made Seteth's wyvern also white to match the Ashen Wolves colors and white cape, because aesthetic   
> it's cute and yall can die mad about it
> 
> also Flayn purring because proud dragon mom

Byleth threw back her head, grinding down on his cock, calling his name. Seteth grunted, thrusting harder, chasing his release. His professor was so beautiful above him, riding his cock. At last he came, purring loudly.

He purred himself awake, cursing as he was met with the brutal reality of an empty bed and soiled sheets. The morning bell rang, startling him. He sprang up, hurrying to strip and gather up his soiled sheets so he could launder them before others got around to their chores.

While he hadn’t had any transformation dreams in the past week, the wet dreams were nightly. He was frustrated, forcing himself to sneakily tidy everything before anyone else could see or catch on. It only took time away from his morning training.

Claude found him as he hung his sheets out to dry. “Mine’s been wiggling. They’re close to hatching.”

Seteth glanced over to his egg, which rested in the basket. When he carried it, he’d felt slight taps against the shell. He even started taking it into the bath with him, washing it and singing to it, praising it on what a good wyvern it would hatch to be. Often he ended up purring over it, even more frequently. He caught himself before he started to purr once more, looking to Claude.

“How soon, do you think?” He asked.

“Tonight, I’d guess. Been doing some reading. Stay close!” Claude bade him farewell.

Venturing to the classroom for the lecture, the rest of the Ashen Wolves greeted him, “So Claude says your egg is going to hatch tonight.” Lorenz greeted.

“You’ve been so busy watching over that thing that you’ve neglected us.” Yuri said pointedly.  
Seteth growled, but cut himself short, reminding himself it was a jest. “I know I’ll have my hands full soon.”

“So I guess that means you’re out of the running for the White Heron cup?” Balthus asked.

“Ohohoho! If so, this is splendid news. I, Constance Von Nuvelle, shall represent the Ashen Wolves as dancer!” Constance gloated.

“Who says you’re going to be the dancer?” Sylvain asked. “I’ve been told I have quite the talent with my hips. I’d be a far better dancer.”  
“I… wanted to try for it.” Seteth grimaced down at his egg. “I guess…”  
A hand laid on his shoulder. He whirled around to see the professor standing there. “I did some research and a lot of thinking about who would be our dancer. I wish I could pick all of you. Ultimately it came down to not who was worse, but who had more strengths.”  
The group held their breath in anticipation.

“Of course, I would still like some of you to continue to pursue the art if you are so inclined. But for the white heron cup, I think it’d be appropriate for Seteth to perform.” She smiled down at him.

“Really?” He gasped. His heart leapt at the news. “But are you not worried about the wyvern?”  
“If anyone can handle it, it’s you.” She beamed. “But Constance, Sylvain, I’d like you two to try pursuing the dancing art as well. Help him practice. Plus, should anything happen… like some crazy wyvern antics… one of you could step in. So you have incentive.” Byleth winked.

“Well, I can deal with that decision.” Sylvain folded his arms behind his head.

“I suppose it would be good to have multiple people with such a skill. A true asset!” Constance concluded. “Yes, we shall be unstoppable!”

  
  
  


“You seem… on edge.” Byleth said, sipping her tea.

Flayn sighed across from her, staring down at her cup. “I am just worried about Seteth. He has a lot going on.”  
“I’m sure he’ll be fine. I selected him for the White Heron cup.” Byleth smiled.

Flayn furrowed her brow. “You did? Surely you have an alternate choice.”  
“Well, yes. But why the concern? He’ll be fine. It’s in a month so he’ll have time to handle the wyvern, classes, and practice. I have confidence in him.” Byleth explained.

“In a month…” Flayn trailed off, her gaze unmoving from her cup. “I just hope…”  
“Hm?”  
“Nothing, nothing.” Flayn shook her head. “If he’s going to be a wyvern rider, you should definitely consider training other students in dancing, even if they do not compete.”  
“That’s the plan. I just figured Seteth would be a good example. He is the most disciplined out of all the students, and has enough focus that I think it could work.”  
Flayn’s eyes met hers. “You really believe in him don’t you?”

“Of course. I believe in all the students. Having that confidence helps them grow.” She leaned in, “Even if he’s got a few centuries on me.” She chuckled, and a small grin pulled at Flayn’s lips.

“I am glad I put my confidence in you, professor.”

  
  
  


Seteth scribbled away, studying at his desk when a small crack sounded. His attention snapped to the egg on his bed. A tiny crevice meandered over the smooth face of the egg. His eyes widened as he leapt to his bed and watched the egg, his hands balled on his knees in anticipation.

“Come on, little one.” He coaxed. “You can do it.” There was a muffled peep and then another crack. “That’s it…” The egg continued to crack, until the shell wiggled loose, before a tiny white nose popped a piece out of place. A little claw scratched at the edge of the shell, breaking it inwards. A tiny pale leg kicked the side of the egg open. The wyvern pup squeaked, opening its eyes for the first time.

Seteth purred. “Hello little one.” He leaned down, brushing his finger under its tiny chin. It purred back at him, its iridescent scales rippling in recognition. It was rare to see wyverns in such a color, but nothing seemed more suitable. From his reading and what Claude had told him, he recognized the lack of a central ridge of scales on its forehead meant she was female.

“I suppose…” He thought for a moment, studying her color, reminded of the pale stones around the memorial on the Rhodos coast. “You’re Pebbles.” The wyvern chirped at him, flapping its wings as it stumbled over the eggshells and sheets into his lap. He cradled it, purring loudly.

“Seteth?” Flayn knocked on the door.  
He said gently, “She’s here. She hatched.” He continued to purr. Flayn flung open the door to see him holding the baby wyvern. Her expression was pride and happiness as she beamed at them, a soft purr coming from her throat.


	18. Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth continues to train with different people around the monastery. Seteth begins dance practice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so my test results came back and I still have full blown active mononeucleosis and it's a real pain in the lymph nodes and spleen
> 
> anywho I've been ordered on a week of bed rest which means I'll have nothing better to do than write Setleth smut so yay
> 
> also I'm still exhausted but at least it's not as bad as it was three months ago!  
> I'm so sick and tired of being sick and tired!
> 
> Anywho I love reading the comments, so drop one! I am always excited to learn what people think, how you react, and what you anticipate! :D It's the reason I keep posting!

“Meet Pasha!” Claude held up the baby white wyvern to Seteth. “Who knew we’d end up getting such a rare set of twins?”  
Seteth smiled, cradling a sleeping Pebbles in his arms. “This is Pebbles.” He said softly.

“They’re gonna be good to wander on their own and stay in the stables in about two weeks. Think you can handle it?” Claude chuckled. Pasha squeaked, flapping her wings.

“Oh, they hatched!” Byleth said, emerging from the classroom. “This isn’t going to interfere with my lectures, is it?” She eyed Seteth warily.

“I make no promises.” Claude smirked.  
“I just settled Pebbles in for a nap, her naptime should overlap with classes.” Seteth answered.  
“You really are no fun.” Claude pouted, scratching Pasha’s chin. Pasha nipped at his house leader badge.

“I want to take extra care of Pebbles if I am going to raise her.” Seteth puffed out his chest, while simultaneously suppressing a purr. The slight rumble that did escape his chest managed to rouse Pebbles for a moment. She looked up yawning, following Seteth’s line of sight to Byleth. Pebbles chirred to Byleth loudly, flapping her wings eagerly.

“Oh seems like she wants you to hold her, Professor.” Seteth smiled, handing her over. The tiny wyvern purred loudly in her arms, sniffing her before curling up to snooze once more.

“Seems like Pebbles thinks you’re her daddy, Professor.” Claude chuckled.  
“ _What_?” Seteth snapped.

“Well we’re like their mothers. The first ones they see. Usually they won’t warm up to other people until they’re two weeks. Pasha here doesn’t even have an interest in anyone else, see? So you must be special, teach.” Claude shrugged. Seteth caught a suspicious glint in Claude’s eye that made his hair stand on end.  
“I’m sure it’s just Pebbles being sleepy.” Seteth scoffed, holding out his arms to take her back. Byleth shuffled to move the pup back to her parent, but her claws clung into her robes.

“Better not move her. She’s sound asleep. Hey teach, why don’t you just carry her for the lecture?” Claude suggested.

“I suppose I could manage.” Byleth gazed down at the baby, gently petting it. “If that’s okay with you, Seteth?”  
“I--yes. Please do.” He nodded rigorously. A soft purr reverberated in his chest once more. Fortunately Claude and Byleth had gone ahead into the classroom, just out of earshot.

Pebbles slept soundly in Byleth’s arms for the duration of the lecture. Pasha, on the other hand, squealed and chattered, finding interest in Lorenz’s coattails. Lorenz was displeased with the wyvern pup’s new favor, and thankfully Dimitri intervened to help Claude wrangle her to the back of the classroom.

After class, Pebbles perked up, ready to return to her guardian. Seteth thanked Byleth for holding her so well during the lecture. Before he turned to leave, she stopped him.

“So when are we going to practice for the White Heron Cup?” She asked.

“Well, I have my hands full. Perhaps next week--”

“You can’t put something like this off, Seteth. I’ll allow you the week to adjust, but after that you’re going to really have to show up.” Byleth crossed her arms.  
“Pebbles will be ready to be on her own and stay in the stables in two weeks.”  
“That’s cutting it too close.”  
“Fine. How about later this evening?” He asked. “I will figure something out.”  
“Great. You can come get me when you’re ready. I’ll be training with Leonie and Alois.”

  
  
  


“It’s nice, the three of us bonding.” Alois chuckled, resting his axe on his shoulder as he wiped the sweat from his brow.  
“I really appreciate spending time with you both. I know Jeralt is away on big missions a lot, but it feels like I’m closer to him when I train with you.” Leonie smiled.  
“I’ve learned so much about my father that I didn’t even expect from you two. Thank you. I feel like we’re a family, of sorts.” Byleth smiled. “Leonie, you’ve really taken well to Jeralt’s technique. It’s brought back so many memories.”

“And you’ve shown a lot of improvement since you go here as well, Professor!” Alois boomed, slapping her on the back.

“It’s all this great training. Shall we go again?” Byleth rolled her shoulders and reached for her blade, only to see Seteth approaching from across the training grounds, Pebbles in his arms. “I guess not. Same time next week?” Alois and Leonie nodded, dismissing her.

“I see you couldn’t find a babysitter.” Byleth chuckled, walking alongside Seteth to a courtyard. Lanterns illuminated the deserted area. He seemed to tense, glancing around. “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s just us tonight.”

“I-I see.” He set Pebbles down and she wandered the perimeter, never straying too far from him.

“Right, well. Why don’t we start together. I’ll lead and show you what I’ve been studying.” Byleth said, offering her arm.

Seteth blushed, staring at her with his piercing eyes. There was something about him that was so striking, so different than the other students… then she reminded herself he was actually a centuries-old saint. She chuckled inwardly over the sentiment as he took her hand. She led him around in a dance, then again explaining the forms and movements. All the while he seemed so focused, like how he stared at her during her lectures. This time, however, she knew for certain he was listening.

“Alright, you think you got it?” She asked.  
“Of course. I’ve been studying, too.”  
“Books can only tell us so much.” Byleth smirked, “But of course you knew that already, didn’t you?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “How about I lead, before trying it on my own?” He offered his hand.

She took it, and he immediately pulled her into him. It was his turn to smirk as he took each step she did further in proximity, intensity, and passion. Eyes wide with surprise, Byleth was captivated by Seteth’s flawless execution. Something burned inside her, and she wondered if it was just Seteth’s natural charm as me moved so effortlessly around the courtyard with her on his arm.

In a quick movement, he twirled and dipped her, finishing the climactic move by clutching her tightly. Overwhelmed, she gazed up into his eyes, swallowing thickly. She definitely underestimated him, and he was having none of it.

His voice was a low rumble, “How was that, Professor?”

Byleth opened her mouth, only able to answer in a croak that tapered off into a whimper. Fortunately, Pebbles came to the rescue, nipping at Seteth’s pant leg and tugging at it. Tiny growls pulled his attention from her, allowing her to regain her composure and pull away from him.

“Well done. Don’t get overconfident, though. You’ll still need to practice.” Byleth warned. “I’d suggest taking some time to join Sylvain and Constance in practicing.”  
“Very well.” Seteth nodded, picking Pebbles up and scratching under her chin.  
“Then it looks like you’d better call it a night.” Byleth nodded to Pebbles.

“Thank you, Professor.” Seteth smirked before heading back to his quarters.

  
  
  


“Dad…” Byleth ran after Jeralt as he was leaving the monastery gates. “Another mission so soon?”  
“I’ll be back before you know it, kid.” He tousled her hair.  
“I know, I just thought we’d have time to have some tea. Alois and Leonie have been swapping stories with me about you.” She smiled.

“Oh no.” He groaned. “Take it with a grain of salt, okay?”

She nodded, waving him off.

Flayn joined her side, “Rhea certainly has him busy.”  
“I guess so.” Byleth sighed.  
“How are preparations for the White Heron cup?” She asked.  
“Seteth’s been doing good so far.” It’d been a week since their first practice, and Seteth had miraculously managed to juggle Pebbles, training, and practice remarkably well. “I suppose with all the time you two have had, you learn to manage it pretty well.”  
Flayn smiled and nodded. “Has he been… stressed about anything?” She asked.  
“I don’t know. He always seems so focused. Then again whenever I see him lately it’s for practice or class. Occasionally we see each other in the training grounds, but he’s been busy with the wyvern pup.” She shrugged. “Is something wrong?”

“I wonder if he is not telling me something.” Flayn hung her head. “I am his mother, should he not be able to confide in me?”

“Well… developmentally speaking, he’s still like a teenaged boy, right?” Byleth asked.  
“It is a little more complicated than that, but I suppose you are correct in a sense.” Flayn said.  
“Well if he’s anything like the other kids here--which he seems to have some commonalities with them--then he’s going to have a few secrets of his own here and there. I’m not going to tell my dad everything about my life. He’s always respected that.” Byleth explained. “Don’t worry. Compared to his classmates, he really has it together.”  
“I am glad.” Flayn sighed in relief.

The bell chimed. “Ah, damn. I told Dimitri and Claude I’d train with them. Better get going!” She waved to Flayn, already heading toward the training grounds.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, Professor.” Dimitri greeted, tossing her a training sword. “Claude seems to be busy with his wyvern.”  
“Oh? Is he having trouble?” Byleth wondered if he was handling it as well as Seteth.  
“He’s handling it fine. Everyone else on the other hand… can’t seem to deal with a baby wyvern whose companion lets it roam as it pleases.” He chuckled, beginning to move thought slow forms with her. “I actually saw him and Seteth on my way here by the bridge.”

“Interesting.” Byleth nodded.

“Professor, I was wondering something. Perhaps when things wrap up for you here in Garreg Mach, would you like to join me in Fhirdiad? We could use a strategist like you in the Kingdom. You would be brilliant.” Dimitri was offering her a job.  
“That sounds appealing. I honestly don’t know. I guess it depends on where me and my dad go… or if I want to stay here. I guess I never really thought about my future like that before.” She considered.

“It’s okay, you have plenty of time to decide. Regardless, I would always want you to feel welcome in Faerghus.” Dimitri smiled.  
“Thank you, Dimitri. I think living in Fhirdiad would be lovely, especially if I get to see you and the other students around.” The thought of watching her students grow gave her such joy. She really had become attached to them all, and felt like their guardian in a sense. Dimitri’s offer was not something to be taken lightly, or easily refused. She would definitely consider it in the coming months.


	19. The White Heron Cup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth competes in the White Heron Cup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohohohoho things are starting to heat up  
> Coming up is the ball, the goddess tower, and... 
> 
> the timeskip will soon be upon us! So I'm ready for more post-timeskip suggestions! Digging the comments!
> 
> I already have another AU planned for my next fic, but idk how long it will be! Also, check out my 31 days of Setleth smut for Kinktober! 31 oneshots for every day this month!

Days away from Pebbles being able to move to the stables with the other wyverns, Seteth woke in a cold sweat from a transformation dream. Pebbles had jumped onto Seteth’s face to wake him, crying until he woke. Catching his breath, he stroked his wyvern, purring. It was the second night in a row he had such a dream, and he was growing more concerned over Flayn’s warning.

He didn’t tell her any of these new developments, instead continuing as normal. His priority was caring for Pebbles, and he was now meeting with Claude daily to help train them early and begin socializing them with the stable wyverns so they’d be ready to join the Garreg Mach flock. Pebbles often interrupted his dance practice with Byleth, leading to the Professor growing frustrated with him. In turn, he also grew frustrated, desperate to practice to represent the Ashen Wolves successfully.

Catching wind of Dimitri’s offer for Byleth to move with him to Fhirdiad, Seteth was surprised. Something about the news stayed in the back of his mind, eating away at him, yet he refused to acknowledge it fully. Yet he found himself growing short with Dimitri when he and Claude would train alongside the Blue Lions’ leader. Growing increasingly restless, Seteth began to lose sleep.

“Seteth, is something wrong?” Byleth asked the following evening when they met for dance practice. Seteth was slow on his moves, his steps delayed from her rhythm as she clapped the beat out for him. Pebbles was coiled around her feet, pawing at her shoes.

He stared down at the baby wyvern before meeting her eyes. “There is a lot on my mind lately.” He sighed.  
“If it’s too much, you can always drop out now. Sylvain or Constance could take over. But it’s better to do it now than later.” Byleth said.  
“No, I will not drop out. I am doing this.” He snapped.

“I think you need to call it a night, Seteth.” She folded her arms.  
“No. We will keep practicing.” He growled. He stormed over and Pebbles scampered away, intimidated by his harsh quick steps. He seized Byleth’s shoulders and spun her around, placing his hands on her hips and yanking her close. Her scent overwhelmed him, spurring his movements. His fingers dug into her hips as he breathed her in. She huffed, prying his hands away and whirling around.  
“I’m not dancing with you. You’re tired and stressed out. You need focus for this, otherwise your movements will be too sloppy!” Byleth snapped.  
“I need to practice, Professor. Do you not want us to win?”  
“I want you to get a hold of yourself!” She shouted. “You’re dismissed for the night. Get some rest.” She stormed off.

Seteth clenched his fists. His blood boiled, his body felt as if it were on fire. Why was she being so difficult? Why was he so desperate to dance in the first place?

He laid awake that night, Pebbles sleeping curled up next to him. When he finally started to doze, the sky grew pale. His dreams descended into lust, as a naked Byleth grinded over his cock. He purred in his sleep, the purr growing loud enough that Pebbles answered it with her own purr, eventually waking him. Embarrassed about his dreams, he denied the thoughts, shoving them aside. The bell rang, and exhausted he got up to face the day.  
He felt as if he were going mad, his dreams tormenting him with either the Professor or his burgeoning dragonhood. If he could hold off for just a little longer he’d make it through the White Heron Cup, and then the ball… and then his birthday…

  
  
  


Sleep deprived, his temper was short with everyone except for Pebbles. When the day came for her to join the rest of the flock, he was especially irritable, since his one comfort now had to be housed in the stables to ensure healthy handling and development. Pasha was an excellent companion for her, and Claude was able to convince Seteth to open up.  
“You’re not sleeping.” Claude leaned against the stable wall, watching the pups play with the other wyverns. He glanced to Seteth from the corner of his eye. “You’re stressed.”  
“It should not concern you.” He growled.  
“Everyone’s noticed. Dimitri even mentioned how your voice is dropping.” Claude said. “We’re all going through the same thing, and there’s plenty of late bloomers--”  
“I do not wish to have this conversation.” Seteth gritted.  
“You gotta take a step back. Pub--”  
“Why does everyone want to talk about _puberty_?” He practically spat out the last word. “I do not need to have this conversation with you. This is hardly appropriate.”

“You’re so ready to grow up and be the Archbishop already but you can’t deal with the steps it takes to get there?” Claude asked pointedly.  
“Tch.” Seteth waved him off, storming out of the stables.

“Seteth.” Byleth stopped him as he stormed out of the stables. “Is something wrong?”

He stopped in his tracks, turning slowly to face her. “I--There is a lot on my mind, professor.” He clenched his fists at his sides, taking a deep breath.  
“Anything I can help with?” She asked.  
He opened his mouth to reply, but then glanced away.  
“Come with me.” She nodded. While he was weary of dealing with anyone else, he obliged her. He followed her to the cathedral, where they found themselves in front of the statues of the four saints. Seteth frowned.

“Why did you take me here, of all places?” He sighed. Byleth looked up at the statue of Cichol. Of him.

“Remember when Flayn asked me to do research on the saints?” She asked. “Remember how she asked me who my favorite Saint was?”  
He exhaled, “You said your favorite was… Cichol.” He regarded the somewhat inaccurate likeness of himself.  
“Do you remember why I picked Cichol?” She looked at him with a piercing gaze.  
“You admired his leadership.” Seteth puffed out his chest.

Byleth drew close, so only he could hear, “Yet I find you acting less like a leader each day. Disregarding your peers, failing to communicate…”  
He curled his lip, snarling, “Sorry to disappoint you.”  
She took his hands in hers, her eyes pleading. “Seteth, I know you may be going through some things. Everyone here is. It’s hard to believe you were once known as this great man with how you are acting right now towards everyone.”  
He hung his head in shame. “I was younger then.”  
“Look, I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me given our lifespans,” She murmured in his ear, “But I know you’re growing into a man who will be a great leader. You just need to have some humility.”

She stepped back, her hands sliding from his. He met her gaze. She regarded him with a smile, cocking her head to request some sort of answer.  
“Don’t be too hard on yourself.” She added when he pursed his lips, withholding a response. She left him. He gazed up at the gilded statue of himself for a long time, considering her words.

  
  


The day of the White Heron Cup came. Seteth found himself in competition with Felix, Dorothea, and Marianne. While the others drifted around the hall with their finest moves, they could not compete with Seteth’s prowess. While he spent the past two weeks intensively studying and practicing the art of dancing, he also had centuries of experience behind him. Each step, each turn of his head, each look to the judges had an intensity to it that could not be overlooked.

While Constance and Sylvain, along with others were also able to showcase their new skill, none came close to Seteth’s ability. When he was announced the winner, it came as no surprise, his classmates cheering for him and celebrating him. To further celebrate all the dancers who studied and competed, they held a party in Abyss that evening, where everyone made merry and wine flowed freely.

Music flared and most of those who practiced and studied dancing performed for everyone. Seteth remained back in the shadows, watching from afar as he sipped his drink. Byleth joined his side.  
“I haven’t decided.” She sighed.  
“On what?” He looked at her, cocking an eyebrow.  
“If having centuries of experience is cheating or not.” She mused, smirking.

“If you want, we could try a different dance. Something unrehearsed.” He joked.  
“Alright then, indulge me.” She offered her hand.  
He glanced around, everyone else had their attention on the other dancers. He took Byleth’s hand, leading her beyond the columns to the far end of the chamber where only a few torches lit the area. In the dim light, the music echoed over the stone chamber, the sounds of the crowd distant. Seteth pulled her close, following the music with his own steps.

His heart leapt as Byleth smiled up at him, laughing as she stumbled over her feet when he pulled her around. His smile softened as he met her gaze, slowing his steps. They inched closer and closer, the distant music slowing.

“So this is improvised, hm?” Byleth murmured, her arms sliding over his shoulders. They were little more than swaying in a circle. His hands slid down to her hips. Touching her there set his fingertips on fire, tingling with the heat of their proximity.  
“Of course.” He replied with a smirk. “Unless this is too unpredictable for you?”  
She chuckled, the sound ringing through him. “No, it’s perfect.”

His heart fluttered as he looked into her eyes. He leaned down, following the desperate urge to kiss her until the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He looked up, turning to see the rest of the Ashen Wolves heading their way, calling his name.  
“Looks like your adoring fans need you.” Byleth followed his gaze, stepping back. His heart ached as she put distance between them.  
“It appears so. I should not keep them waiting.” He sighed, giving her a longing smile.  
“Go, have some fun. You deserve it.” Byleth waved him away. He nodded, going to join his friends.


	20. Transformation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth wakes from another transformation dream with a few unusual traits. Flayn realizes he's been keeping the truth about his progression from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost time for the ball! Hooray!
> 
> I have so much in store for the next few chapters, I am sorry the last few chapters have been kind of lacking, I have been really tired!

The following morning, Seteth awoke screaming from a transformation dream. Flayn burst into his bedroom. She blanched when she saw him.

“Oh dear.”  
Seteth caught his breath, looking up at her, confused. “What? It was just a little nightmare.”

“It was a transformation dream, was it not?” Flayn asked.  
“What? No--”  
“Do not lie to me! Look at yourself!” Flayn snapped, pointing to his vanity mirror.  
Seteth stumbled out of bed, throwing his covers aside. He nearly tripped over himself as he scrambled across the room. Making it to the mirror, he regarded himself. Iridescent scales lined his cheekbones and over his brow. His pupils turned to slits. He reached up to touch the scales, realizing his hands had grown somewhat larger and his nails were now talons.

“You have been having transformation dreams and not telling me.” Flayn shook her head. “I should have known better. You are further along than I thought in this growth spurt.”  
“I cannot go to class looking like this!” He gasped.

“I will go get Rhea. Thank goodness I made early preparations.”  
Seteth frowned, resigning himself to the fact that he would likely miss class for the day. He paced across his room, wondering how long this ridiculous phase would last. He had classes! He had to take care of Pebbles! The ball was coming up, not to mention Saint Cichol day shortly after that.

Rhea glided through his bedroom door, followed by Flayn. “Rhea,” He greeted with a bow.

As elegant as ever, Rhea regarded him in silence before speaking. “You have lied to your mother, Seteth.” She gave him a disapproving look. “That could have put us all in danger. No one knows about our true identities--”  
Flayn cleared her throat. “Rhea,” She whispered, “The Professor learned about Seteth and I during my mission to deal with the Western insurgents on the Rhodos coast.”  
There was a glint in Rhea’s eye. “Really?” Her scowl twisted to a smile. “Well how fortunate that the professor knows.”  
“I have made preparations for Seteth to leave until his transformation subsides.” Flayn changed the subject, more worried about her son.

“Wait, how long is this supposed to last?” Seteth blurted.

“It varies. It could be a few days, it could be a few weeks. We also don’t know when the next one will be after this.” Flayn explained.

“Next one? This is not a one time thing?” He asked.

“Well no,” Flayn explained. “You are entering adulthood, and with our life cycles as they are, this little growth spurt of yours will be probably a few years of intermittent transformations.”  
“You are becoming a fine young Nabataean.” Rhea smiled warmly. “You should be proud.”  
“I do not want this. I just want to go about my business.”

Rhea and Flayn ignored him, chatting among themselves. “He had been purring, too.”  
“How frequently?” Rhea asked. “Around anyone in particular?”  
Seteth balled his fists. “That is not important right now! Why can I not just stay here?” He shouted.  
“Control your temper, boy.” Rhea’s eyes flashed with a low growl.  
“Your emotions will be affected by the transformation, we do not know what to expect, so that is why I will be taking you to a safe place far away to avoid any risk of being seen.” Flayn explained. “If you had told me you were having dreams sooner, we might not have had to sneak you out of Garreg Mach with scales on your face!”

A monstrous growl of discontent reverberated in Seteth’s chest. “I have things to do. Who will watch over Pebbles?”

“Pebbles?” Rhea asked.  
“His wyvern pup. He and Claude found eggs while at the coast a few weeks ago. They hatched. He purrs over the pup.” Flayn said.  
Rhea’s eyes twinkled, “A fatherly instinct?”  
“Rhea, we cannot think about such things right now.”

“Very well. I will get a cloak for Seteth. Leave when everyone has cleared the grounds for their morning activities.” Rhea hurried out.

When she left, Flayn slumped against the door. “Why did you not tell me?” Seteth looked away. “What else have you not been telling me?”  
He was silent for a moment. “Nothing. I just did not want to face this. I am not ready.”  
“No one is ever ready for puberty.” Flayn sighed.

There was a knock on the door moments later. Flayn rushed to get it, “Oh, Professor! I was not expecting you.”  
Her floral scent drifted into their quarters, assaulting Seteth’s senses. His pupils dilated and he stalked toward the entrance. Flayn had only cracked the door open, her body blocking his view.

“Rhea got caught up in some business and asked me to deliver this to you. Is everything alright? Usually I see Seteth outside the classroom around now.” He overheard Byleth’s voice, like sweet music to his ears. His cock stirred.

“He is ill, unfortunately. I do not think he will be attending classes for a few days.” Flayn informed her. He gave an indignant huff, but remained hidden from her view.  
“Oh, well, I hope he feels better. I guess he must have celebrated his victory a little too much, huh?” She chuckled.  
“Haha, yes, perhaps so.” Flayn spoke quickly. “Please if you’ll excuse me. Thank you professor.” She closed the door. Seteth emerged, only for Flayn to throw the cloak into his face. “The sooner we get out of here the better.” She hurried to gather a few last minute things for their absence.

He disregarded her words, the smell of the Professor was strong on the cloak. He inhaled it, rubbing his face into the fabric and purring loudly. Flayn stopped her scurrying about their quarters abruptly in front of him. A hand snatched the cloak away from him as she sniffed the cloak, then narrowed her eyes at him.

“The Professor. You have been lying.” She gasped.  
“What? No! Do not be ridiculous.” Seteth scoffed.

“You were purring. Her scent is fresh on this from bringing it over.” Flayn said. “You fancy her.”  
“I do not fancy the Professor! I can hardly stand her!” He protested.  
“Then put this on, and _try_ not to purr!” She snapped.

  
  
  


There was a cave not far from the Rhodos Coast fitted with supplies. Flayn kept watch and stayed nearby in a cottage, checking up on Seteth periodically. However, after they arrived the first day, things got progressively worse for Seteth.  
He continued to transform gradually over the next two days, shifting fully into a dragon. The transformation left him drained, weak, and in pain. He laid in the cave, curled in a nest as he clutched the cloak that only faintly smelled of Byleth. Roars would rip from his throat as the pain came in waves, his body changing. Flayn’s checks came at dawn and dusk, leaving him to himself.

Hormones raged war within him. His mood shifted frequently, where minor annoyances like a squawking bird would have him lashing out in fits of rage. He lost control of himself, his mind acting on instinct as he remained within the confines of the cave. He struggled against his lust for the professor, something he had tried time and time again to deny. Yet he was freefalling into it, unable to escape as it washed over him.

He ached needing her. Needing relief, release. Sleeping was really all he could do in his state, and he found his dreams only of transforming and his dear professor. Dreams that taunted him, had him hard and leaking over the nest. No, he couldn’t bear it, he could not continue with this denial, could he?

Three days as a dragon. Two days as he gradually shifted back. He could not control it in any way. After a week, he and Flayn returned to the monastery. He was in high spirits, and Flayn noted how he had grown slightly taller.

His classmates were happy to see him again, having worried about him being out sick for a while. He said nothing to the illness, but thanked them for their concern. He was happy to get back to work, catching up on his studies.

Additionally, spending time with Claude and the wyvern pups was most welcome. Pebbles and Pasha seemed to be experiencing growth spurts of their own, and were adapting to stable life perfectly. After spending time with the wyverns, he and Claude would go train with Dimitri, where he found a new competitive streak. His moves were bolder, more calculated, and he seemed to be more aggressive when he caught the Professor observing them, desperate to win.

  
  
  


Byleth was excited for the ball, celebrating the founding of Garreg Mach. As she made her way to the great hall, she found her students gathered together. The Ashen Wolves turned to greet her, with Seteth waving her over. The newest additions to the class, Ferdinand, Dorothea, and Hilda fit in with the rest of their classmates quite well.

“Professor,” Seteth beamed. “I’m so glad you’re here. We were just talking about how five years from now would be the Millennium Festival.”

“A thousand years since the founding of Garreg Mach…” Yuri mused.  
“I’m glad we get to cut loose and party for once… officially!” Balthus boomed.  
“I adore dancing, it’s the only thing I’m really good at anyways.” Hilda squealed.

“The prestige, the elegance… no one shall outshine the poise of Constance von Nuvelle!” Constance cheered. “A perfect opportunity to mingle with all those other nobles and remind them of my ambitions.”

“Dancing? Singing? I’m not good at either of those things…” Leonie hung her head.  
“So? Dancing is fun! Besides, you can’t dance with the same partner multiple times, it’s tradition.” Hilda said.

“I am surely to be overwhelmed with propositions to dance from countless ladies. I should have little time to ask for partners of my own choosing.” Lorenz boasted.

“Ah a perfect opportunity to dance with all the ladies of the academy to our heart’s content.” Sylvain grinned.

“I will admit, Lorenz and Sylvain’s skills on the dance floor are quite good. However, I am far superior!” Ferdinand exclaimed.  
“You’re not a bad dancer, Ferdie. But you do have some moves that are um… hard to watch.” Dorothea shook her head.

“You honor me with your kind words, I understand that sometimes I am too dazzling to behold directly!” Ferdinand replied.

“I think I’ll just lay low, enjoy the food.” Hapi said. “No need to get ahead of myself.”  
“That’s a good mindset. Just wait for the right moment to get what you want.” Yuri considered.

“So are you ready for the ball, Professor?” Seteth asked.  
“With how excited you all are, how could I not be?” She chuckled.  
“Just imagine the celebrations five years from now. Maybe we should all come back to see them?” Yuri proposed.  
“I’m sure people from all over Fodlan will attend a festival of that magnitude.” Claude interjected, joining the group.  
“They’ll certainly have something extravagant planned.” Dimitri agreed, coming to his side.  
“Then perhaps we should all plan to meet here in five years for the festival.” Seteth suggested.  
“Sounds pretty impossible considering where some of us may be…” Claude said.  
“But for a once in a lifetime celebration? Surely we could make an exception.” Dimitri nodded.  
“What do you say, Professor?” Seteth asked.  
“I suppose so.” Byleth said.  
“Then you must ask Captain Jeralt to come, too!” Leonie added.  
“Oh think of all the ladies that will be there.” Balthus wondered aloud.  
“Ladies? That’s my kind of thinking.” Sylvain agreed.  
“Surely you will have found yourself a suitable partner by then, Sylvain?” Lorenz scoffed.  
“Hey, anything could happen!” Sylvain shrugged.

“Alright, alright. So five years from how we’ll meet here for the Millennium festival. It’s decided.” Seteth chuckled.  
The others nodded in agreement.  
“You and I will meet here again, Professor.” Seteth murmured to her as he met her gaze. The others chattering amongst themselves seemed to ignore him. The intensity of his gaze caught her off guard, her face flushing.


	21. Dance with Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night of the ball, Seteth and Byleth make a wish. The following day is not so kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourselves, it's /that/ moment!
> 
> I'm getting ready for the smut-tacular timeskip because I've been itching to make this fic filthy!!!! Thanks for the great suggestions! I'd love more smutty ideas!

The night of the ball, Byleth watched the revelry. Students danced and mingled. The faculty chatted, sharing memories from the past semester. Byleth sipped her champagne, enjoying the food and music. The hall was alight with warm smiles.

Claude had been the first to ask her to dance, though it was more of an insistence. He pulled her onto the floor, and they twirled and laughed. Dimitri asked her to join next, followed by Constance, Balthus, and Sylvain. She finally caught a moment to breathe, and before anyone else could ask her to dance or beg for her attention, she slipped out the door.

The night was cool and crisp, a welcome relief. While she enjoyed the company of her students, the solitude of the evening brought solace. She found herself wandering out by the Goddess Tower. She looked up at the stars, sighing.

“Oh, Professor. I did not see you there.” Seteth’s voice came. She glanced over to see him leaning against the terrace balustrade.  
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just needed some air.” She smiled, turning to leave.  
“You can stay, if you like.” He said. “I just had to escape before anyone else could ask me to dance.”  
“I was in the same boat.” She chuckled. “So why’d you come here?”  
“I could ask you the same thing.”  
“I was just roaming, looking for somewhere close enough to make it back but far enough that no one could find me if they went looking.”  
“I suppose it’s a similar story for me, though I was also wondering about the old legend they told about this place.” Seteth looked pensive.  
“Legend?”  
He looked to her, then quickly glanced away. “They say if two people meet at the Goddess Tower on this night and make a wish, their wish will come true.”

She shuffled up to his side, “Well since we’re here, maybe we could try to wish for something? There’s no harm in seeing if those old stories are true, right?”  
“I suppose.” He replied. “In that case, I suppose I’d wish for a future of happiness.” He looked to the sky at the twinkling stars. “Whatever that may be. What about you, Professor?”  
“I’m not sure. Your wish sounds like a good one, so I guess I’d wish the same.” Byleth nodded. There was a silence between them.  
“I want to thank you for your patience with me. And your discretion regarding my true name. It strikes me that I never explicitly told you. Did Flayn tell you?”  
“It wasn’t hard to figure out, given your crest, the monument, little details here and there. Besides, if you pay close enough attention, one could figure out that you and Flayn aren’t siblings.” Byleth explained. “I’d be careful of Claude in that regard.”  
Seteth raised an eyebrow, “Do you think he’s onto us?”  
Byleth shrugged, “You never know with that one. He’s a friend of yours, though, so I will leave that to you.”  
Seteth smiled. “I am still wary of him. And while you may be privy to certain information, I still am wary of you as well.”  
“Fair enough. I’d like to think we get along a little better than we did nine months ago when I first arrived.” She replied. He nodded. “To have centuries like you do, and have to put up with a teacher younger than you… I bet that gets under your skin sometimes, huh?”  
“Occasionally.” He crooned. “I try not to think about it too much. There is much to learn from everyone you meet, regardless of their age.”  
Byleth considered his words. “I’d like to continue to learn from you, Seteth.”  
“I would like that, too.”

  
  
  


Flayn rushed to Byleth the following morning, “Professor, Demonic Beasts have been sighted in an old chapel. Students were seen in the area, and I’m worried they may be in danger.”  
Byleth had been having lunch with her father, recounting the ball. She looked between Flayn and him, nodding. Jeralt sprang to his feet. Byleth went to find her students.

The Ashen Wolves gathered, convening with Jeralt before the ruined chapel. Demonic Beasts roamed through the rubble, terrorizing the remaining students. With no sign of Seteth, Byleth worried where he might be, but they had no time to look for him. Charging ahead, Byleth directed half the students to the left, while she left the rest to the right, Jeralt engaged ahead. While the others fared well, Byleth found herself beaten down, the Demonic Beast before them thrashing wildly and not giving them many openings to strike.

Then a jingle sounded in the distance. Byleth whirled around to see Seteth running to their aid in a dancer’s garb. His shirt clung tightly to his chest, accenting his form. He waved a levin sword over his head, his hips swaying. She couldn’t turn away from him, captivated.

“Professor, watch out!” Constance cried.

Byleth turned to see a giant claw slashing out toward her. A force slammed into her from behind, pushing her out of the way from the attack. She flinched, finding herself curled up against something hard. The jingle sounded in her ear. Byleth opened her eyes to see Seteth’s broad chest in her face, his bangles jingling as he held her close.  
He glanced down, “Are you alright, Professor?”  
She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Instead she nodded, blushing as she stared at him. He raised his sword, shooting a bolt at the beast. Setting her down, he joined his classmates, using his dancing art to help speed their attacks. Byleth stood there watching him dumbfounded.  
While he had exceptional prowess as a dancer, she was completely and utterly distracted by him. And student’s lives were at risk! She snapped herself out of it, running to strike the monster. With a swift jab at the beat’s ankle, it fell, snarling. Constance and Seteth finished it off with blasts of magic.

Her students raced ahead to the next beast, which had cornered another pupil. The only thing keeping her in the right direction was the call of Seteth’s jingling bangles as she followed him. While everyone was rallied around Seteth and invigorated by his dancing prowess, Byleth found him far too distracting. When he swayed his hips she couldn’t look away.  
Why couldn’t she look away? She needed to get it together. Her students took down monster after monster as Jeralt pushed ahead, facing down with the last demonic beast. She ran after him, joining her father’s side to fight the creature.

The beast swiped at Jeralt, who barely dodged. She lunged at its exposed throat, striking in the soft underside before withdrawing. The monster shrieked, howling in pain. Jeralt attacked it again, jabbing at its face with his lance. Behind them, Lorenz and Dorothea began firing magic blasts at the creature. Seteth worked his ability so their attacks became more frequent. Byleth focused on the snarling monster, ignoring the sound of his bangles as she slid under a flailing claw, thrusting her blade up into the chest of the beast.

It collapsed over her, exhaling its last breath. Byleth grunted under its weight. Bathus, Ferdinand, Leonie all worked to pull the beast off of her while Seteth and Jeralt dragged her out from under it.  
“You okay, kid?” Jeralt asked.  
“Yeah, fine.” She said, keeping her attention away from Seteth. She didn’t need to be distracted after such an intense battle, and something was amiss with all these demonic beasts around the monastery and attacking students. “We need to make sure the students are okay.”  
The students they managed to save were indeed okay, but some weren’t as lucky. Jeralt investigated the chapel.

“There isn’t a trace of any evidence to be found in the chapel.” He muttered. “This must have something to do with Remire… perhaps…”  
“Wait!” A voice called. Monica, the red-haired girl who was found alongside Seteth called Jeralt over. Byleth watched as they exchanged a few words from a distance, finally starting to relax from the battle. Overhead, dark clouds rolled in, the air shifting with the promise of rain. “Run along now.” Jeralt dismissed her finally.  
“Thanks for all your help, sir.” Monica smiled, skipping past him. Jeralt turned his back with a small smile.

Monica pivoted swiftly, turning. A glint of a blade flashed before finding its way through Jeralt’s back. Byleth gasped. He grunted, gasping.

“You’re just a pathetic old man.” Monica hissed with a wicked smile. Jeralt fell to his knees, wheezing. “How dare you get in the way of my brilliant plan, you dog.”

Byleth stood, stunned. Then summoned the power deep within her, the secret she had kept so well when she first started to awaken, as if her life until the monastery had been a dream. The voice that whispered to her, that guided her, that helped her turn back time only in the most dire of situations, once again cried out.  
Time shifted, sapping her of a great amount of energy. Yet there was Jeralt, chatting again with Monica. The girl moved, and the glint of the blade flashed again. She struck out with her sword, the spine of her blade unlinking and flying through the air, snapping out. There was a flash of light as a man appeared in the path of her blade, blocking it with magic,

Monica’s blade ran through Jeralt’s back again, before she turned to see the pale white-eyed man who appeared.

“Huh? What are you doing here?” She asked, looking between the man and Byleth as she recoiled her blade.  
“You must survive, simply because there is a role I still require you to fill.” The man hissed, grabbing hold of Monica and vanishing into thin air.

Horrified and sapped from turning back time, Byleth stumbled to her father, dropping her blade. She rushed to his side, picking him up and cradling him in her lap. Her eyes burned as she watched him gasp for air.  
“Sorry. Looks like I’m going to have to leave you now…” He winced in pain. Through bleary eyes, Byleth saw him look up at her. Her tears wet his face. He closed his eyes, a small smile appearing at his lips. “To think that the first time I’d see you cry… that your tears would be for me… It’s sad and yet, I’m happy for it. Thank you, kid.”

Rain blended with her tears over Jeralt’s tranquil face, his body falling still in her arms. She sobbed, clutching her father as his flesh turned cold. Her students ran to her, asking what was wrong, then stopped, silent as they saw Jeralt dead before her.

  
  
  
  


Seteth hung his head. He should have paid more attention. Jeralt had been wounded, stabbed. He could have stopped it if he wasn’t so focused on testing his new training. Knowing that he might have contributed to Jeralt’s death made him put away the dancer’s bangles, cursing that he ever wore them in the first place. He could never dance again.  
Byleth wasn’t the same after Jeralt died, and the following day the monastery mourned. While Flayn still tried to make him a birthday cake despite the circumstances, he couldn’t eat nor sleep after seeing Byleth’s tear-stained face.

Restless that evening, he took a walk. As he strolled across the grounds, a faint sound caught his attention. Close to the graveyard, he suspected the source, discovering Byleth curled by a grave, weeping. His heart shattered at the sight, and he went to her.  
“Professor, do you need anything? It is quite late out.” He whispered, laying a hand on her shoulder.  
She sniffed, looking up at him, “I’m sorry.”  
She was cold under his touch. “You must have been out here for a long time. Why don’t you come with me to the kitchen. I’ll make you some tea.”  
She nodded, taking his hand and following him to the dining hall. It was deserted, but Seteth brought out a kettle with a few biscuits on a tray, sliding them in front of her. He poured her a cup, the ginger blend strong and soothing to the senses.  
“Thank you, Seteth.” Her voice still shaky from crying.

“I’m sorry, I should have been there. I could have done something.”  
She shook her head. “There was nothing to be done… dark forces… Monica killed him. Dad believed it had something to do with Remire. And… the man that appeared looked like Solon, before he vanished with Monica.” It was the first time she spoke of the event, unable to have a conversation in the past day.  
“Monica?” Seteth gasped. “She must have infiltrated Garreg Mach like Solon, then.”  
Byleth nodded. “I don’t know what we can do for now, but I will find Monica, and I will avenge my father.” She drank her tea in silence. “I wanted to thank you for helping with the demonic beasts. You… you dance good.” She focused down at the cup in her hands.

“I will not be dancing again. If I had stuck to my strengths, Jeralt probably would have been alive.” He frowned.  
“Don’t blame yourself for his death.” Byleth sighed. “I thought I would… but it really is no one’s fault but Monica’s… and whoever she’s working with.”  
“Still, I do not think I will dance again.” He hung his head. “After yesterday, it’s just left a bad memory. I am more concerned for your well being, and I couldn’t live with myself had it happened to you. I will no longer take risks when it comes to using my skills.”  
“Thank you, Seteth. If that is what you decide, then I will support you.”  
He got to his feet, nodding. “I know you may have trouble sleeping tonight. Try to rest the next few days and I will make sure the others get word of what happened to Jeralt.”

“Thank you, Seteth. Truly, you are a Saint.” She gave a faint smile.


	22. Vengeance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth seeks revenge for Jeralt's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew so I totally knocked out today after going back to work briefly. This is rough and I am super exhausted.
> 
> I think I might also take a break after this fic is done and work on a few other things.
> 
> Anywho, I keep forgetting to post but @yellowwtime did some amazing art of YOUNG BABBY SETETH! It's absolutely jaw-droppingly PERFECT! See it here: https://twitter.com/yellowwtime/status/1312498427595419648?s=20

  
[Art by yellowwtime](https://twitter.com/yellowwtime/status/1312498427595419648?s=20)

Byleth spent much time mourning Jeralt. A week after his passing, she found the strength to enter the captain’s quarters, where many of his things were left behind. Byleth took her time, going through his possessions until she found the ring he had shown her before. Aside it was his diary, left behind.

When she opened it, she thumbed through the pages, discovering it was far longer, and Jeralt was far older than she thought him to be. Reading on, she discovered something unsettling about her birth, and how her mother died. Rhea did something to her that day, and that was why Jeralt burned what he could and fled. Why he was so wary of the Archbishop. She was right to have kept much of her distance from Rhea.

“Oh you’re here.” A voice huffed behind Byleth in the doorway.  
“Hello Leonie,” Byleth nodded to her student, failing to give her a smile.  
“You know… Jeralt was a great man. I don’t think you recognize just how great he was. I mean, he never spoke of you when he came to my village. You weren’t even there.” Leonie folded her arms. She looked like a mess, like she’d been crying and hadn’t slept.  
“I know.” Byleth hung her head.  
“Do you even appreciate him? Do you even care?” She clenched her fists, her voice rising.  
“Leonie, that’s enough.” A voice snapped. Seteth appeared in the doorway next to her, scowling. “I know you are hurt from Captain Jeralt’s loss too, but such things are uncalled for.”

Leonie stormed off, silent.

Seteth turned to Byleth, “Are you alright? I was just on my way to see Flayn when I overheard that…”  
“I’m fine. She doesn’t mean it. She’s upset.” Byleth sighed, tears welling in her eyes despite herself.

Seteth approached her, laying a hand on her shoulder. “I know what it’s like, losing your father.” He whispered.  
“I wish I could have done something more…”  
“I know that feeling, too.” He said. “It will always hurt, but time will make the pain dull.”  
“Thank you.” She sniffed.

  
  
  
  


“Professor, I believe Rhea is gathering the knights to retaliate against those who cause the attack on the chapel.” Seteth caught Byleth a week later.

Still wrought with grief, Byleth froze, meeting his gaze.

“I believe Rhea is trying to hide it, worried you will want revenge. I cannot help but remember the lost of my own father, and I know how you feel.”  
“We should face them.”  
“I agree--” He was cut off as Rhea approached them, Flayn at her side.

“No. I will not allow it.” Rhea declared.

“This discovery comes just when the knights are at their busiest.” Flayn added. “It is all too likely our foes revealed themselves to lure you out there. I know how you must despise them, but I must ask you to rein in your personal feelings right now.”  
“You can’t stop me.” Byleth clenched her fists.  
“Please Professor. Do not act carelessly. I ask that you leave this to us. Losing you so soon after losing Jeralt would be unbearable.” Rhea said.  
“Rhea, be reasonable. Most of the knights are away on other missions. The Professor has not only the Sword of the Creator, but immense power proven time and time again. Flayn and the rest of the knights can’t leave Garreg Mach defenseless. We are ready. Trust us.” Seteth looked to the Archbishop and his mother.  
“And you agree with this strategy?” Rhea asked Byleth.

Byleth nodded.  
“Understood. Destroy the enemy hiding in the Sealed Forest. You have the protection of the Goddess on your side.” Rhea said.  
“Let’s move.” Seteth said, meeting Byleth’s gaze with a fiery intensity.

  
  
  
  


Arriving at the scene, The Ashen Wolves readied themselves for battle. “We will avenge Jeralt, Professor.” Seteth assured her, peering through the forest to spy enemies waiting for them. Demonic beasts paced idly, gnashing their teeth. Beyond them, on a ruined foundation, Monica spotted the students.

A nasty grin crossed her face. “Welcome to the forest of death. My name is Kronya, and this weakling girl was just a borrowed look for me.” She flipped, her appearance changing in the blink of an eye. Her skin was pale like Solon’s, her hair and academy uniform transformed. “Now you vermin, I’ll take down every last one of you!”

Byleth ordered the new recruits to go left while Yuri, Constance, Hapi, and Balthus went right. Seteth joined her side as they raced through the forest to take Kronya on directly. While her students took on knights and mages, the demonic beasts stalked into the forest. Fueled by rage and a thirst for revenge, Byleth did not hesitate to charge, unleashing the full power of the sword of the creator.

With a lucky hit she gutted the first beast she encountered. She whirled around to find Seteth fending off the second, covering her back. With a quick leap and jab of his lance, the beast recoiled and hissed. Byleth joined his side, slinging out her blade to slash across the monster’s face. The creature shrieked and swiped at them. Seteth pulled Byleth back to dodge the blow before lunging back in with his spear. His weapon caught in the beast’s belly, and with his weight he wrenched his lance. The beast cried out before falling limp.

Seeing the rest of the students close in, Seteth and Byleth pressed forward through the forest to face Kronya. Byleth sped ahead of Seteth, running to strike Kronya.

“You’re a fool to be this brazen. You’ll never avenge your father at this rate.” She taunted. She cackled, “I’ll have to kill you too, with my own hands!”

Byleth had no time for banter, she charged at Kronya, striking out with her sword. Metal clanged against metal as Kronya raised her knife to defend herself. Terror flickered in her eyes as she met Byleth’s furious stare. Shoving her backward, Kronya fled from Byleth. She pursued her, chasing her over the ruins.

Kronya tripped, tumbling over the uneven stone of the ruins. Recovering and springing back to her feet, she guarded herself with her blade, “But how? How could I really lose to a lowly creature like you?”

Silent, her blood pumping with fury, Byleth raised her sword. There was a flash as Solon appeared behind Kronya. She whirled around, frantic.

“Solon! Don’t just stand there and stare! I need your help!” Kronya demanded.  
“Yes, you most certainly do.” Solon hissed. The pale old man approached her, extending his arm. Betrayal flashed across Kronya’s face before Solon’s hand impaled her chest. Byleth stepped back, on guard, terrified at the sight. “Have no fear, Kronya. Your sacrifice will help to rid this world of the filthy vermin that have long infested it.”

Kronya gasped, stunned in Solon’s grasp. Around them, pillars at the corners of the ruins began to glow with dark flames, licking up the columns with a ghastly aura. Kronya screamed as Solon wrenched open her chest. Dark magic electrified the air, surrounding the area. The dark aura grew heavy, snaking around Byleth before black tendrils snapped out, binding Byleth in place. She hissed, struggling in their clutches as she tried to break free with wild swings of her sword, to no avail.

“Solon, stop this!” Kronia shrieked.  
“The time has finally come, to unleash the forbidden spell of Zaharas upon our enemies.” Solon hissed, ripping out Kronya’s heart. The girl fell to the ground, convulsing. Solon held his fist aloft, crushing the heart in his grasp. Darkness exploded from his palm.

Kronya turned her head up, reaching for Byleth, “Please… help me.” She croaked. Darkness consumed her, whirling around Byleth. The magic enveloped her, sucking her into blackness.

She was alone.

“You fool!” The familiar little god appeared before her in the blackness, scolding her as usual. “What were you thinking charging right into an enemy’s trap?”

“I can explain...” Byleth sighed.

“Excuses won’t help us! This darkness is terrifying. Since we are one, I too am trapped in this void. But please consider this… This realm of darkness is a world separate from our own. It would take a god to leave this place. In time, our hearts and minds will cease to be. Are you prepared to die?”

Byleth thought of the faces of her students. “I’m not…”  
“I thought as much. I also do not wish to die. And yet… There is no other choice. Do you remember your father’s diary? How you were a child that neither laughed nor cried? I am to blame. I must have been asleep, but even then I was a part of you. I don’t know how Rhea managed it, but she allowed me to exist inside of you. The truth is I have always existed within you. It is within you I found my power yet again.” She explained. “The power of a goddess… the power of the progenitor god. My name is Sothis. By now you must be well aware of what that means.” Byleth recalled the conversations on the fishing dock with Flayn, how she explained the goddess, her relation to the saints, and the church. “I am the one who watches over Fodlan and the creatures there.”

“Somehow, I knew it to be true.” Byleth replied.

“There is but one thing left to do to save us from this darkness of eternity. I must now use the power of a god. However, I lack a body of my own. And so, I must relinquish my power to you.” Sothis looked deep into Byleth’s eyes. “The time has come for you and I to join as one. And when that comes to pass, I shall disappear.”  
“I can’t allow that.”  
“I do not mean all that I am will be no more… My soul will join with yours and you and I will never be apart. But I will no longer have the chance to speak with you. I will miss it. So long I have been on this path with you. Through you I got to see and hear this world. I even got to chastise you from time to time.” A fond smile curled her lips. “I may not have acted like a goddess, but it was certainly fun. For all that you have done… Thank you. I’m glad that it was you who I was bound to.”  
“Thank you for everything.”

“Now we must pray. For if we share this wish, our spirits will join as one. Your wish is to return to the forest, stop the enemy, and save the little ones. No need for words, I know your heard as if it were my own.” She chuckled, moving forward. “Your will and mine are now as one. Both sides of time are now revealed to you, and you alone. You know I am the beginning. What shall you do?”

Light exploded around them, encircling them. Byleth faced Sothis, taking a deep breath. She held out her hand to the little goddess, her heart resolute. Sothis drifted to her, extending her hand. Before she could feel the warmth of flesh, the goddess vanished into a burst of light, filling her with energy. Power flowed through her veins. The darkness thundered around her, as if it were cracking apart.

Byleth drew her sword, and with a mighty yell, cut through the darkness with all her power. The darkness shattered open, and Byleth stepped back into the world. The crispr forest air greeted her, still heavy with the tang of blood and magic.

“Professor?” Seteth gasped, assembled with his classmates. Byleth glanced to him over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of pale green. She had no time to examine what had happened to her hair, merely nodding to her students. “I knew you’d never leave.” He smiled. “Let’s dispose of this scum.” He took his stance, ready to fight.  
“What did you see in the darkness of Zaharas?” Solon asked, trembling. “This should be impossible… the only being that can withstand the darkness is… Unless I dispose of you myself, I may never have the chance to send you back there!”

Enemies appeared before them in a burst of magic, ready to attack. Demonic beasts appeared alongside them skulking towards her. She didn’t hesitate to rush ahead, charging. Behind her, her students followed. They engaged with their enemies in a brutal clash. Invigorated, Byleth cut through them with ease.

Running ahead of her students, Byleth came face to face with Solon. “I am terrified by you.” Solon hissed. “Even though an emotion like fear has no place inside me. That means you must be eliminated.”

Byleth curled her lip in disgust, “Here’s something to believe in.” She swung her blade, striking Solon.

He crumpled, grunting. “To think I would lose to mere beasts…” He wheezed. “But this is not the end… Thales will carry out our mission, somehow…” Byleth watched his last breath escape him, lowering her sword.  
Seteth ran up behind her. “It’s over…” She whirled to face him. His breath hitched when he met her eyes. “Your appearance…”

Byleth glanced over to see the rest of the students recuperating. She turned to speak to him aside, “It was the power of the goddess.”  
He inhaled sharply. “The goddess… And what will you do with this power?”  
Byleth furrowed her brow. “I… I want to protect--” Her voice trailed. Her vision blurred. Byleth stumbled and collapsed.


	23. Eve of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth has changed. Seteth is wary. Rhea sees an opportunity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm slowing down a bit. I'm trying to balance things a little more. I also want to get back to drawing some projects, and so if you check out my twitter @wildlionart you might see a WIP of a Seteth dakimakura I'm working on :)
> 
> I'm just trying to pace myself!

A sweet song roused Byleth. A hand brushed through her hair. She opened her eyes to see Rhea’s bright eyes staring down at her as she finished her song. The archbishop smiled. Byleth rubbed her eyes. She was laid across Rhea’s lap.

“At last. You have received power from the goddess. My prayers have been answered and you...” Byleth’s vision blurred, she still felt weak and tired. Her eyes were so heavy, and Rhea’s voice faded in and out. “You are home, and our family will yet grow. Sleep now, rest a while longer.” Byleth drifted back to unconsciousness, soon forgetting Rhea’s words.

  
  
  


“Please Rhea, what are you hiding? What is the meaning of how that one looks? It is almost as though…” Flayn was cut off by Rhea.  
“As I said, there is nothing of which to speak. For now.”

Seteth held his breath, hiding behind the doorway as he eavesdropped on their conversation.

“I read Jeralt’s diary. I happened upon it in his room.” Flayn said.

Rhea turned, her eyes flashing. “What?”

“In it, he stated the reason for his departure. The baby thought to have died in the fire… has returned to us. Jeralt realized you had done something to the child and decided to flee.” Flayn’s voice lowered. “What did you do to that baby, Rhea? Nothing questionable, I hope?”

“Flayn, enough. Do you not sense it now? How she is different? This comes at a most opportune time. Consider Seteth…”  
A lump formed in Seteth’s throat. Quickly, he slinked away to find the professor. Rushing to her dormitory, he stood, hesitant outside her door. He raised his hand to knock. The door swung open, and Byleth nearly collided with him.

“Ah, Seteth, I’m so sorry.” She stepped back with a chuckle. Her scent hit him like a wall, lighting his blood afire. He gasped, containing a thousand urges within him, trying to hide the erection that began to swell in his pants.

“Sorry Professor. I just came to inform you that…” He couldn’t say anything, the words catching in his throat. There was probably more than he even understood. “Rhea will want to see you soon.”  
“I know, I was heading to talk with her just now.” Byleth smiled. “Is something wrong?”  
“Ah, no, no.” He shook his head. “I just am anticipating our next mission.”  
“Alright then. Thank you, Seteth.” She moved past him, her scent overwhelming.  
“P-professor!” He blurted. She turned to face him, inquisitive. “Your hair… your eyes…”  
“I’m still the same person.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Seteth. I’ll be here for you.”

  
  
  


“She’s like us, isn’t she?” Seteth confronted Rhea. “You did something… I don’t know what, but you did--”  
Rhea got up from her seat. She was silhouetted by the morning light streaming through the stained glass behind her. She regarded Seteth for a moment, hesitant. Drifting over to him, she laid a hand on his shoulder.  
“It isn’t a bad thing, Seteth.” Rhea smiled. “You remember so long ago, when there were more of us…” He narrowed his eyes. “I understand you’re going through changes. Can’t you imagine a future with more of us? Wouldn’t you want that?”

Seteth tensed. “Rhea--”  
“Rhea!” Flynn snapped. Seteth whirled around, wrenching himself free of Rhea’s grip. “Do not drag my brother into this.” She hissed. “Seteth, go check on your wyvern in the stables.”  
“No, sister. I want to know Rhea’s intentions. I want to know what is going on.” He turned back to face Rhea. A bitter silence descended them.  
“Rhea--”  
“Flayn, please. As the future Archbishop, I think I deserve to know these things.” Seteth cut her off.

Rhea smiled, “And as future Archbishop, you are the perfect candidate to help rebuild our people. You and the Professor could raise the next generation of Nabataeans.”  
Seteth’s heart sank. “W-what? That’s not what I--” He stammered. “N-no!” He backed away, eyes wide with horror.  
“The timing is perfect, you are finally experiencing--” Rhea started, he threw up his hand to stop her.  
“No. This is the last I will hear of such things.” Seteth snarled.  
Rhea chuckled. “As you wish. I just hope your instinct hasn’t already started to kick in.”

Seteth shuddered, brisking out of the room.

  
  
  


Weeks passed, and the Ashen Wolves gathered in the holy tomb. Seteth was still tense around Rhea, and doubly so around the Professor. Rhea instructed Byleth to sit atop the throne of Sothis. Now, as the Professor waited for the divine voice of Sothis, Seteth felt a draft of air.  
He whirled around, seeing soldiers close in on them. “I’m afraid there’s no time for ceremonies.” He warned, holding his lance ready. “We have guests.”  
The others turned to see a masked figure among them. The Flame Emperor. The soldiers formed a line, taking positions to fight.  
“The Imperial Army will now take possession of everything in the holy tomb! Don’t move or your lives will be forfeit!” One of them ordered.  
“The Imperial Army? With the Flame Emperor?” Constance gasped.  
“Seems like they’re involved…” Yuri muttered.  
“What do you want?” Seteth demanded.  
“The holy tomb contains great power.” The Flame Emperor replied. “The power to rule all of Fodlan. Quick, retrieve the crest stones. Kill them if you must.” Byleth rushed to stand between the Imperial troops and her students.  
“Insolence! You will atone for the sin of trampling this holy resting place!” Rhea hissed. “Professor, destroy these villainous traitors who dare dishonor our creator!”

The Imperial soldiers began raiding the caskets, snatching up the crest stones. Rhea shrieked, ordering their defense. The Ashen Wolves sprang into action as Byleth rushed to face the Flame Emperor. While the students engaged in the soldiers to defend the crest stones, Seteth followed Byleth, supporting her and watching her back.

Byleth and Seteth charged straight for the Flame Emperor and their general. Throwing himself before the Flame Emperor, the general attacked them, charging at Seteth. Seteth engaged to distract him while Byleth set her sights on the Flame Emperor. Raising their axe, the foe glared at her through their mask.  
“I wished you had joined us…” The Flame Emperor said.  
Byleth didn’t reply, instead answering with the ringing clang as her sword clashed against her enemy’s axe. They stumbled backwards, slicing their weapon upwards. Byleth dodged it, dashing to the side and slinging her blade out. The Flame Emperor moved to evade the strike, but was too slow. The tip of the Sword of the Creator caught on the Flame Emperor’s mask, sending it flying across the floor.

Byleth froze, seeing Edelgard’s scowl uncovered. “Edelgard…”  
Edelgard observed the rest of the tomb. The Ashen Wolves had defended the crest stones and defeated them, keeping the Imperial forces at bay. Her lip curled in a snarl as she motioned to retreat. The troops pulled out. Conflicted over the sudden revelation, Byleth halted Seteth and the other students from pursuing them further.  
Rhea’s curses upon Edelgard reverberated through the chamber.

  
  
  


Flayn found Byleth in the corridor on her way to the dining hall. “The Adrestian Empire has declared war upon the Church of Serios, and our allies. She demanded her own father relinquish the throne, then assumed the position of Emperor. She has deemed the Church of Seiros to be an evil of this world and is calling for the people of Fodlan to help tear it down. I must discuss our response with the Archbishop after the knights return from their investigation. Until then, watch over the students. See that they remain calm.”

Seteth emerged from a nearby doorway, “So we’re supposed to wait and do nothing?”  
“It is not like that, Seteth.” Flayn shook her head.  
“Ferdinand and Dorothea are uncertain about what to do. The rest of the students are on edge. We can’t just ignore this and pretend it didn’t happen.” He insisted.  
“We aren’t. But we must remain rational in times like these.” Flayn said.  
“Soon many of your classmates may be faced with difficult decisions.” Byleth agreed. “Seteth, we’re relying on you to set an example for them. We are not trying to hide these things, but we don’t need to cause panic.”

  
  
  
  


When the knights did return, news that an attack on Garreg Mach was inevitable and expected in mere weeks. Flayn scrambled to prepare as Rhea insisted that should anything happen to her, Byleth was to take on the mantle. Seteth was upset by the news, enraged in the lack of confidence in him in favor of someone with such little knowledge and experience in the church. He had spent far longer being dedicated to the Church and until the Professor came along, was expected to inherit the role of Archbishop. Even if Rhea did not feel confident in his youthful demeanor, Flayn would have been a better candidate than Byleth.

A week before the attacks, Seteth confronted Byleth. “Nothing will happen to Rhea, you know.” He snarled, slamming his hand against the wall to corner the Professor when he intercepted her. The rest of the students cleared out of the classroom minutes ago for lunch. They were alone.

“I know. I’m confident in Rhea.” Byleth assured him.

Displeased with her response he snarled, “I spent far too long studying to be Archbishop just for her to hand such an important role off to you. You know nothing of the church!”  
“You’re just as frustrated as when I was appointed, I see.” Byleth retorted. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”  
“She is only doing this because she has this weird idea about you…” He inched closer to look her in the eye. “I do not care that you may or may not have had some weird goddess revelation.”  
“If you want the power then take it, Seteth. I don’t care for it.”  
“It is not about power! These are people’s lives! Think of the other Ashen Wolves, this is all they have. If Garreg Mach falls, what happens to us? We get killed, we get conscripted, we get imprisoned…”

“I want to keep everyone safe, too! I know there’s more to leading the church than just holding mass in the cathedral… I’m not cut out for that either.” Byleth shook her head. “Rhea isn’t going anywhere, so why are you worried?”  
A low, beastly growl came from Seteth’s throat. “How… how can they all have so much faith in you?” His nails lengthened and clawed into the stone wall as he drew closer, his breathing growing heavy.

“Seteth--” Byleth’s voice wavered as she looked into his eyes.

His flesh tingled and he threw himself back, storming away. He was beginning to transform again. Of all the times! Cursing, he rushed to his room. If he was lucky, it’d just be a passing sensation. He feared having to leave with Flayn on the eve of battle, and right after such a confrontation. An absence like this would compromise his position as Archbishop if he were appointed. He was reluctant to admit that maybe he wasn’t quite ready.  
War was at their doorstep, and he could not get control over himself.


	24. Dragged Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth must leave the monastery to deal with transforming, but he is desperate to return. Byleth finds herself in a strange situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting this, the timeskip will happen, I swear!!!!
> 
> I'm sorry I have been very forgetful and slow lately, so this isn't the most polished!

Seteth and Flayn had vanished before Imperial troops drew too close to Garreg Mach, under the guise of Official Business. After her last encounter with Seteth, Byleth doubted the reason why they could have left, but she needed to focus on preparing for battle. The surrounding villages were either evacuated or fortified. Supplies were gathered in plans for a siege. Scouts returned twice daily with reports on enemy movements.

The heavy air of war descended over the monastery. No longer were the halls filled with idle chatter, but a silent anticipation. Byleth had to do what she could to keep the Ashen Wolves in check and calm. Edelgard’s declaration of war had many of the Black Eagles students return to Adrestia. Rhea said nothing to Flayn and Seteth’s absence, her attention fully set on the war and her own fury.

The way she spoke of Edelgard chilled Byleth’s blood. Byleth still thought of Edelgard as a student. Maybe there was a chance she could try to reason with her still, to save her from this path of utter destruction. Yet everywhere she turned she was met with doubts on the subject. In her brief passing conversations with Edelgard she realized she had overlooked countless requests for her to join the young Emperor’s cause. She’d also even praised Edelgard’s persistence and drive, but now saw it as a dangerous weapon. It seemed Edelgard would stop at nothing to achieve her goals. The scouts and refugee accounts from villagers in her army’s path had made that clear enough.

A bloodbath awaited them.

With no sign of Seteth or Flayn a week before they anticipated Imperial troops to strike.

“You’re tense.” Aelfric leaned in the doorway of Byleth’s classroom. She was finishing some grading at her desk. The students cleared out an hour ago.  
“The Empire may as well be at our doorstep.” She frowned, not looking up at him. He slinked across the room to her, resting a hand on hers to stay her quill.

“Would you come with me? I want to show you something.” He smiled.  
“Aelfric, I really don’t have ti--” Her refusal was cut off by Aelfric’s lips pressed against hers. She gasped, shoving him backwards. “What… was…” A strange sensation overwhelmed her, and Byleth fell unconscious over her desk.

Blurred images came to her. The sensation of being carried down flights of stairs, dark rooms and torches. She clawed through her warped dreams towards these fleeting images, desperate to return to the waking world. Something was wrong. She couldn’t remember what happened, but an unsettling feeling twisted in her stomach.

Her head ached when she finally came to. Without a sense of time, she had no idea how long she’d been out. She was in a dark room. Silks lined the stone walls. She was in a giant plush bed, surrounded by pillows. Everything around her was soft, warm. Had there not been a deep worry gnawing at her, she would have been tempted to go back to sleep. Candles glowed around the room, offering a dim light.

Questions swam around her. While everything around her seemed safe, calm, comfortable, she was wary. Remaining quiet, she hunkered down to wait for something to happen. The last thing she remembered was that she was working in her classroom.

  
  
  
  


“We have to return to Garreg Mach.” Seteth snarled.  
“You’re still not fully transformed back, yet.” Flayn argued.  
“We cannot just sit here while Edelgard charges against the monastery.” His claws ranked across the floor as he struggled to his feet. A few scales still remained on his limbs and around his eyes. His horns shed, but his eyes were still wild and slitted. His heat had passed, but with the transformation, left him exhausted. “We are going back, by the time we return I will have restored my human looks.”  
“You do not know that, this is only your second transformation.” His mother warned.  
“We’re going.” Seteth propped himself up against the wall of the cave, his talons clicking along the stone as he took slow steps toward the entrance. “If I am to be the Archbishop, I cannot run away.”  
“This is not running away! Even if you didn’t transform, I still think it would be wise to avoid such conflict. I cannot bear the thought of something happening to you.” She pleaded. Seteth steadied himself, taking a testing step away from the wall. Walking unaided, he trudged past her, his mind made up.

Flayn relented, and they returned to the monastery. Seteth kept under the cover of a cloak as he felt his remaining scales shed. His body shrank to its human proportions, his hands and feet receding their claws. His eyes, however, remained the same. As the monastery came into view, Seteth and Flayn spied the approaching Imperial army. He clutched his lance tightly.  
“We must hurry.” Flayn hissed.

They quickened their pace. Monastery guards greeted them, allowing them entry. Seteth thanked the Goddess for their fortune and being able to return. Back inside the walls, his thoughts immediately turned to the Professor. Remnants of his heat remained with the last of his transformation. He sniffed the air.  
“Seteth, please control yourself.” Flayn warned.  
He ignored her, hastening over to the dining hall, then the classrooms. “Where is the Professor?” He hid himself under his cloak, standing in the doorway of the Ashen Wolves’ classroom. Balthus and Constance stood in the courtyard before the classrooms, chatting. The classroom was empty. His palms grew sweaty over the shaft of his lance.  
“No one’s seen her in the past day.” Balthus shrugged.  
“I wonder if she has abandoned us.” Constance hung her head. Seteth frowned, sniffing the air again. Her scent was faint. Tearing off his cloak, he tossed it over the sun-covered Constance and hurried away, following the scent. It was the only lead he had, and though it faded, out of all the smells in the monastery he could follow hers. It wasn’t like the Professor to abandon her students in a dire hour. Something was wrong, and there was something strange about her scent as he followed it down to Abyss, through the shadows and stone corridors.

  
  
  


“Ah, you’re awake.” Aelfric hummed as he entered the room carrying a tray of food.  
“Where am I? What happened?” Byleth asked. Something about him couldn’t be trusted.  
“I brought you breakfast. You slept for quite some time.” Aelfric sat down on the bed next to her, setting the tray before her. “Please eat.”  
Byleth stared down at the tray. “You didn’t answer my questions.”  
“Garreg Mach is under attack.” Aelfric looked away. “This place is safe.”  
“I don’t remember anything. I was grading papers…”  
Aelfric looked at her, “You were poisoned. It was all I could do to get you to safety. Please, let me take care of you until it’s safe.”  
Byleth stared down at the tray of food, silent for a moment. “It can’t be.”  
“I’m afraid so. Don’t worry. No harm will come to you here.” He gave a small grin. “I hope that despite the circumstances, you enjoy your time here. With me.”

“Aelfric, I appreciate this, but I have to get back. If Garreg Mach was attacked, I need to make sure my students are okay.” She moved to get up.  
“No.” Aelfric blurted, throwing himself over her. He pinned her, staring down at her with an intensity.  
Her stomach churned. “Please get off of me, Aelfric.” She whispered.

“Byleth, I can’t let you leave. I need you safe, I need you--”

  
  
  


Byleth’s scent grew stronger as Seteth descended into the depths of Abyss. His dragon eyes still remained, allowing him to see clearer through the dark. His lance was at the ready, a strange and familiar scent followed Byleth’s. He tensed, something wasn’t right. This close to a battle, why would Byleth vanish?

He worried that the same people who stole him away months ago had discovered something about Byleth. Maybe they didn’t mean to only kill Jeralt. His heart pounded as he picked up his pace, sprinting down seemingly endless flights of stairs. He chased his nose through a complex of corridors, deep below the main chambers of Abyss. The area was labyrinthine, deserted, abandoned. A forgotten hidden fortress far below even the deepest underdwellings.

Door after door he came to some sort of living area. Passing through a pantry then a kitchen, then another series of rooms, he came to a locked door where Byleth’s scent was the strongest. She was there, and he was certain. The other smell was strong too, and he was wary. Whoever it was, for them to take his Professor in such times, was an enemy.

After a second to catch his breath and brief mental preparation, Seteth burst through the door, lance at the ready. Dim candlelight revealed a bedroom filled with finery, beautiful silks shrouding a luxurious bed. Upon it a man--no, Aelfric--had pinned down the Professor. Aelfric looked up, pale.

Seteth’s vision went red. “Get away from her!” His blood boiled as he charged at the man.  
“Seteth!” Byleth wriggled free from Aelfric’s grasp, elated to see him. His heart sang at the sight of her happy to see him.

Seteth leapt at Aelfric, tackling him with the shaft of his lance pressed across the man’s throat. “How dare you kidnap the Professor.”  
“Kidnap?” Byleth scrambled out of the bed, rubbing her head. “Isn’t Garreg Mach under attack?”  
“Not yet. I guess I returned just in time. Everyone was worried you abandoned us.” Seteth growled as Aelfric struggled under him.  
“I would never!” Byleth gasped. “Aelfric, did you lie to me?” She stopped, hesitating. “I _was_ poisoned. _You_ poisoned me and took me down here!” She pointed at Aelfric. Her face disgusted.

“I couldn’t risk losing you, not like her. I need you, Byleth. Please, run away from this place with me. We can escape the coming war…”

“Silence!” Seteth snapped, pressing his lance until he was almost crushing Aelfric’s windpipe. Aelfric choked and writhed. He would kill this man for what he did.

Aelfric choked out an incantation and Seteth was hurled backwards by a force of magic. The man leapt to his feet, “Byleth, please come with me away from here. I want to give you what Jeralt never did. Do you not want a peaceful life? To be safe? I could provide for you--”

Byleth shook her head. “No, Aelfric. This is wrong.”  
“Byleth, please--” Aelfric begged.  
Seteth roared, “You leave her alone, or I will kill you.”

Aelfric cackled. “No, I don’t think you know what you’re messing with.”

“Try me.” Seteth spat.  
A blast of magic shot from Aelfric’s hand without warning. Seteth was knocked backwards into Byleth. She caught him, steadying him. Byleth joined Seteth’s side, readying to fight. While she had no weapons, she was willing to take down Aelfric.  
“Leave, Aelfric. I want nothing to do with you. You lied to me.” Byleth growled.  
“If I cannot have you, then no one will!” Aelfric bellowed, throwing his hands out. A wall of flame burst from him, incinerating the room. The silks burst into flame and engulfed the bed. Seteth leapt to Byleth, tackling her down to avoid the blast. The smell of burning flesh filled the room, making them sick. Aelfric laughed as flamed ate away at his robes, consuming him like madness.

“We need to get out of here.” Seteth pulled Byleth along the floor to the doorway. The flames were bright and with the silks falling from the walls and ceiling, their view of Aelfric was obstructed. They crawled to safety, and upon reaching the corridor they sprang to their feet and bolted. Behind them, flames consumed the room. Creaks and groans followed by crashes echoed through the halls behind them as the fire and magical blasts destroyed the vicinity.

Glancing over her shoulder into the darkness as they fled up the stairs, Byleth concluded, “That’s the end of him.” There was a slight hint of sadness in her voice, but her face showed only contempt.  
“I am sorry.” Seteth said, clutching her hand as they raced through another hallway.  
“No, you saved me. Thank you. Something was wrong. He was wrong. He deceived me and dragged me down here when my students need me most.” She replied. She met his eyes, “And I’m glad you’re back.”  
“I am glad you didn’t abandon us.”  
“Never.”

When they reached the surface, they found the monastery in a tizzy. Students and knights were running across the grounds, weapons ready. Overhead, a patrol of Pegasus Knights circled. Blyeth and Seteth blanched.

“There you are. Oh thank goodness you’re safe.” Flayn came running to them. “I was terrified something had happened to you. And Professor! I heard you had vanished.”  
“What’s going on?” Byleth asked.  
“They’re here.” Flayn answered. “Hurry and get ready for battle.”


	25. Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imperial troops arrive at Garreg Mach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :( Seteth sad :(

“Seteth, I do not want you rushing into this battle.” Flayn said, her voice calm and unwavering as they stood atop the battlement, observing the marching Imperial troops. Already some of the Knights had engaged them.

“I cannot stand by and watch. I’m not a child anymore.” He protested. He focused on Byleth who ran to an overlook. More troops were pouring through the outer walls. Rhea joined her side. They two exchanged a few words.

“Rhea is going to fight, as is the Professor, it seems.” Flayn observed. “If that is the case, you as the future Archbishop should stay back and hold our defenses.”

“This does not look good.” Seteth frowned.

Watching from afar, Seteth and Flayn both tensed. Byleth stood down as Rhea moved forward. In a flash of light she transformed. The Immaculate One returned, a vision neither of them had seen in centuries. Blanching, they exchanged a worried glance as the great white beast swooped down over the invading troops and began wreaking havoc.

A horde of demonic beasts raced across the battlefield to tackle the Immaculate One. Teeth snapped and claws ripped as they struggled. Seteth could only watch in horror. Then something else caught his eye: Byleth was running to her aid. She swung her sword, unleashing the fragmented blade and slinging it into the mask of one of the demonic beasts. The mask shattered as the beast was thrown from the Immaculate One. The white dragon thrashed against the outer wall, crushing one of the other demonic beasts in her jaws. The wall began to crumble, the earth trembled beneath her and gave way. The ground collapsed and one of the demonic beasts was thrown into oblivion as the Immaculate One defeated the other monsters.

Spreading her wings, in a thunderous flap she darted from beneath the crumbling wall, letting the rubble rain down and crush her foes. She landed before Byleth. Seteth followed her gaze to see a pale man dressed in black charge up a powerful magical attack. He hurled it at Byleth. Seteth’s heart sank. Byleth was knocked backwards, but managed to stop herself from falling over the edge into the newly formed crevice. The Immaculate One turned to reach for her, only to be hindered by more demonic beasts tackling her.

“No!” Seteth yelled, but Flayn’s hand on his shoulder held him back.  
Byleth moved to get to her feet, but the ground beneath her crumbled. She screamed, her cry drowned out by the Immaculate One’s terrible roar as she tumbled into the darkness.

“We must get her! We have to--” Seteth was frantic.  
Flayn clutched him tightly. “No, Seteth. We need to get the rest of the students to safety.” She scanned the battlefield, calculating.  
He remembered that look from ages past. The worried brow, the expression of pure doubt. “Rhea will live through this, but… she is overwhelmed… We need to do what we can to survive. We must get the rest of the students to safety and flee.”  
“No, I cannot go back into hiding again. I won’t!” Seteth screamed, tears blearing his vision.  
“Now is not the time. Come.” His mother pulled him away, hurried steps pounding against the monastery stone.


	26. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth wakes up five years after the battle of Garreg Mach. She returns to the monastery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is about to get very canon-divergent from here on out. Bear with me, we'll be focusing on Seteth and Byleth's relationship and growth. I'm back and ready to update a little more regularly. Maybe not as consistent as before, but this will still be good and fun. Comments and feedback welcome! Let's continue this.
> 
> Also Adel on twitter drew this gorgeous art of AU roleswap Flayn and Seteth. She requested I not post it on here, and she has not read this fic, but I still would love to direct you to viewing her artwork here and appreciate it since great minds and all that: https://twitter.com/adelnath_/status/1324529004641091584?s=20 Please follow her and give her likes and RTs!

The sound of a babbling brook enveloped her, embracing Byleth with a cool feeling. The water trickled around her fingertips, the chill surrounding her. This feeling was real, and she was floating downstream, her arm brushing against a few stones in the riverbed. Her vision blurred, focusing to see the tangled branches of trees parting to clear skies.

Byleth let the water carry her to the rocky bank. She sat up, glancing around. The forest was serene. Her thoughts began to race as she recollected the last few memories before she fell. She blanched.

“This yours?” A voice startled her.

She glanced up to see a fisherman down the riverbank approaching her. He held out the Sword of the Creator to her. She stood up and nodded, taking her sword back.

“You look a bit roughed up. I didn’t expect to see anyone around here.”

“What do you mean?” Byleth glanced around. “Where am I?”  
“Not too far from Garreg Mach.” The fisherman replied, nodding in the direction of upstream. “Not that it matters.”

“Why wouldn’t the monastery matter?”  
“Don’t you know? That place has been abandoned for years. Well, aside from the thieves that lurk around the area. Honestly? I wouldn’t go messing around there.”  
“Abandoned for years?”

“It’s been nearly five years since the monastery fell. Tomorrow would have been the millennium festival. Are you alright?”

“The millennium festival…” Byleth turned to look upstream.

“You aren’t thinking about going up there are you? It’s dangerous.”

“My students will be waiting for me.”  
“What? Are you crazy?” The fisherman gasped. Byleth was already making her way up the riverbank. “Don’t say I didn’t try to stop you. It’s not on my conscience if you end up dead!” Byleth paid him no heed, venturing up the mountain to the monastery.

Through the gnarled branches of the trees, the sky became a swatch of red as the sun sank. Byleth passed ruins of villages, crumbling into shadows. The walls of the monastery loomed ahead, dark and marred from the events of five years prior. A shiver shot down her spine. She pressed on, quieting her steps as she tread carefully through the campus.

Long shadows stretched across the bridge, silhouettes of spires against the crimson sky. Byleth stepped into the cathedral, drawing her sword. A flicker of movement caught her eye. She whirled around. Swift hands caught her wrists, halting her sword at her side as her shoulder pushed into something--someone.

“You--you’re alive.”

Byleth struggled in the grip, surprised someone could sneak up on her. She looked up to see bright green eyes of a man towering over her. He had long green hair and a trimmed beard along his jawline. He exhaled a trembling breath as he stared at her, keeping his grip. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

Blood rushed to her face as she stammered, her voice cracking. “Unhand me!”

“Professor--”  
She yanked away, stumbling backwards and holding her sword pointed at him. “How do you know me?” She narrowed her eyes, regarding him.

“Do you not remember?” He reached out to her but stopped. “Ah, I suppose it has been quite some time. Much has changed. It figures you would not recognize me now.”  
Byleth studied him, lowering her sword. “Seteth?”  
Seteth’s eyes lit up at the sound of his name. “Professor, you do remember!”

“How can this be?” Byleth put away her sword, transfixed on the man before her.

Seteth stood his ground. “It has been five years. War has ravaged Fodlan. I came back here because I heard rumors… and that promise we made… I suppose I was feeling sentimental.” He heaved a sigh as his eyes met hers. He inhaled.

“I’m so glad you’re safe.” Byleth smiled. “You’ll have to tell me everything…”  
Seteth’s fists clenched at his sides. His voice shook, “Professor…”  
“You don’t really look much like a student anymore, and now that the Monastery is in ruins I guess I’m out of the job.” She chuckled.

Seteth took a step towards her, his eyes gleaming. “Byleth…” Another step. Tears welled in his eyes, catching the fading light of sunset. He bit his lip, rushing to her and falling to his knees embracing her and burying his head against her stomach. He sobbed, “We thought we lost you. I thought you were dead.”

A warmth filled her heart as she embraced Seteth, running a hand through his hair. “I’m glad you’re here.” She whispered.


	27. The Feral Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth and Byleth encounter someone else amongst the monastery ruins. Friend or foe?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP AND WORKING TOGETHER ~*~*~*~*~*

As if his prayers were answered, Byleth was there. Seteth didn’t want to let go. Her scent washed over him like a wave of bliss. His world had been shattered the past five years, and for the first time since the battle of Garreg Mach, he felt happiness.

He’d never leave her side.

“What’s happened? Where is everyone?” Byleth asked, moments after Seteth regained his composure.

“Scattered. Some have joined the Empire. Faerghus is in ruins. They said Dimitri was killed. Claude is busy with Alliance affairs and the rest of the Ashen Wolves… I do not know. Flayn and I have been heading the church while in hiding. Rhea is… gone. We don’t know. I heard rumors that the Empire was unable to take hold of Garreg Mach recently, I had to come check it out. It wasn’t you, was it?”

Byleth shook her head. “I’ve been asleep.”  
“Asleep… all this time?” Seteth pursed his lips. He wondered if she truly was more like him than he knew. A primal urge deep within him stirred, but he suppressed it as something shifting in the shadows caught his attention. “We are not alone.”

There was a muttering as a figure staggered towards them. Something scraped along the marbled cathedral floor, dragging behind them. Byleth and Seteth raised their weapons, Seteth moving in front of Byleth.

“You’ve come to haunt me, too?” Dimtri emerged into the fading light of the cathedral doorway. Seteth only recognized him from his straw-colored hair and the royal cloak of Faerghus. The rest of the man was a broken hollow, wild and matted. An eyepatch covered his right eye. “Or are you her spies? I should kill you, too.”

“Dimitri?” Byleth lowered her sword. Seteth still stood on guard.  
“So you are the one defending this place.” Seteth concluded. “All those Imperial corpses… that was you?”  
Dimitri stared at him, walking up until the tip of Seteth’s lance was in his face. “Are you… alive?”

“Yes. You have my thanks for keeping that scum out of Garreg Mach.” Seteth lowered his lance and extended his hand. “With the three of us here, perhaps we have a fighting chance against the Empire.”

“Tch.” Dimitri shoved past him, glaring down at Byleth. “I owe you no favors. I just want that woman dead.”  
“Then stay with us.” Byleth suggested. “We can build a force, save Faerghus and Rhea. Restore Fodlan. We can put a stop to this destruction.”

“Very well.” Dimitri inclined his head. “For you, Professor.” He stalked back into the shadows.

“There is much to be done.” Seteth looked on alongside Byleth as Dimitri vanished. “I will send word to my sister. We’ll get everyone back here and rally the troops.”  
“And clean this place up to use as a base.” Byleth nodded, kicking aside some rubble. “Seteth, I know Rhea wanted me to take on duties as Archbishop but--”  
“We can worry about that later. For now, we can work together without worrying about titles or ranks.” Seteth smiled. “It’s getting late. Dimitri’s lived around here on his own for a while, so he’s probably accustomed to this, but I’d like to find a safe and secure spot to stay.”  
He and Byleth decided to take shifts while staying in his and Flayn’s old quarters. Not much had changed, a few things were out of place, but it was relatively untouched. Parts of the Monastery had been completely destroyed or looted, while modest quarters like his own were ignored. For this, he was grateful. Having Byleth nearby allowed him to sleep comfortably for the first time in five years.

  
  
  


Dimtri lingered nearby in the morning. Seteth made breakfast for the three of them. Dimitri ate ravenously and like a savage animal, disregarding manners and cleanliness. He kept mostly to himself while Byleth and Seteth chatted quietly amongst themselves about what to do. As word was sent to Flayn and others, Seteth and Byleth began to work on restoring what they could of the monastery.

Byleth focused on cleaning up the greenhouse and dormitories, while Seteth prepared the stables and fixed up the kitchens. Dimitri seemed to check in on them periodically, but more often than not, Byleth and Seteth would find him watching the walls and gates, on guard. While the King of Faerghus was wild and silent, it was evident he accepted them as allies and took on his role as the watcher and defender so Byleth and Seteth could focus on work until the others arrived.

Seteth was wary that Dimitri would try to attack any of the allies once they arrived, so he kept a close eye on the man. Several times he attempted to speak to him, though Dimitri was silent and didn’t acknowledge Seteth’s words at all. This left Seteth frustrated.

“It’s been a week. My sister should be arriving any day now. There may be some Knights of Seiros with her. Please do not attack them.” Seteth said for what felt like the hundredth time as he sat a bowl of porridge next to Dimitri on the steps. “I just finished cleaning up the last of your  _ mess. _ ” He referred to the corpses of soldiers with disgust.

Dimitri reached for the bowl, but Seteth caught his hand. “You’re filthy. You’ll get sick eating with those dirty hands.”  
Dimitri let out a low growl, but was stopped by Byleth’s voice. “He’s right. You should clean up.”  
“Allow me.” Seteth sighed, sitting down next to Dimitri and picking up the bowl. He motioned to feed Dimitri. Dimitri scowled at him.  
“Dimitri, please.” Byleth nudged. “I’ll go draw you a bath.” He relented as she trotted off, allowing Seteth to feed him.

“I’m not a child.” Dimitri swallowed a mouthful of porridge.  
“I never said you were.” Seteth replied flatly. “I do not think less of you for what you have endured. We all have trials.”  
“I could have killed you that day.”  
“I could have done the same. I am glad you are alive, though.” Dimitri nodded, taking the last of his porridge. “Come on, let’s clean up.”

  
  
  
  


Byleth sat next to Seteth before the fireplace in his quarters. Dimitri had taken residence in the dormitories since Byleth had worked to clean them. Exhausted from backbreaking work around the monastery and taking care of Dimitri, they were eager for the others to join them.

“He’s starting to come around.” Byleth said of Dimitri.  
“It will take some time. He vanished…” Seteth furrowed his brow.  
“Well, we all thought each other was dead, didn’t we?” Byleth gave a small chuckle.

Seteth grinned, “I suppose you are correct.”

“You and Dimitri both really… grew up since…” Byleth blushed, staring at her feet.

“You haven’t changed a bit.” Seteth smiled. “Do you think we’ll be able to manage against the Empire?”  
“Maybe not yet. But I think in time, once we get things sorted here and have enough people on our side, it could work. Getting the Knights back would be a great asset. With Dimitri here, we’d have everyone in the Kingdom who hasn’t already surrendered or sided with Edelgard. Claude… I honestly don’t know about him. You can never predict what he’ll do.”

“Let’s just hope no more Imperial Troops head this way. We need to bide our time and keep our cover.”  
“Agreed.”

Somehow, over the course of the evening, Byleth drifted to sleep against Seteth’s shoulder.


	28. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flayn returns to Garreg Mach. Seteth and Byleth set out, hoping to bring others back to the Monastery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to heat things up but at the same time the YEARNING and PLOT

“Professor!” Flayn squealed, running to hug Byleth. “It’s so good to see you.”  
“Flayn, you haven’t changed a bit.” Byleth grinned, hugging her tightly. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“It looks as if we have our work cut out for us.” Flayn noted as she regarded the Monastery entrance. “We must send out for the other knights.”

“I will go.” Byleth said.  
“But you’ve been gone for five years. Things have changed. You don’t know where they’d have gone off to.” Seteth protested.  
“I have already located Alois, Hanneman, and Manuela. They are on their way.” Flayn said. “I knew from your message we would need to move quickly. Especially if more Imperials come sniffing around.”

“I will watch over the Monastery.” Dimitri appeared out of nowhere, his eye focused on Flayn. “Do not worry.”  
Flayn looked between Seteth and Byleth. “You two shall go together.” She crossed her arms and smirked. “Yes. That would be most efficient.”  
Seteth glowered, muttering, “I do not think that is appropriate, sister.” He shifted on his feet.  
“Nonsense. It is still early in the day, I suggest you get moving.” Flayn chuckled.  
“With the two of us it would be easier to convince anyone if they’re reluctant. Not to mention an additional set of eyes is always a good idea.” Byleth nodded.  
“Very well,” Seteth relented. “We can take my wyvern.”

  
  
  
  


Seteth stiffened as Byleth wrapped her arms around his chest. The wyvern shot into the air, catching her by surprise. She clinged to him for the duration of their flight. She was warm against his back, despite the chill of the wind against them. Glancing down to see her hands on him stirred feelings both wishful and primal within him.

After she vanished, his urges dissipated and his transformations went smoother. With her back, the struggle returned. While it had been some time since he last transformed, and Flayn determined his spurt was over for the time being, he worried he would not be able to control himself. It didn’t help that Flayn seemed to encourage their proximity, and now was certainly not the time to think about such things.

They landed to make camp, both remaining silent. Byleth built a fire as Seteth rolled out the mats for their beds, making sure to keep them a fair distance apart. When Byleth left to fish, Seteth went to put up a canvas drape, noting the gray clouds rolling in. He sighed, lamenting that they were so far North that there were no nearby inns.

Byleth returned with fish and they prepared dinner, eating quietly until she broke the silence. “Flayn still looks the same.”

Seteth glanced up at her. “She does indeed.”  
“You don’t.”

He sighed. “You are aware of who we are.”  
“Rhea turned into a dragon. I saw it. Are you… like that?” She narrowed her eyes, scanning him.

“Flayn and I cannot transform like she can. But yes.” He explained.

“You grew up.” Byleth said.

“You slept for five years.” Seteth countered, irritated. Byleth pursed her lips, her face flushed. “Do you have a problem with my appearance? You did not even recognize me…” He hung his head.  
“No, it’s not that. I just…” She hesitated. “I wonder how everyone else will have changed.” She moved to her bedroll and began to make herself comfortable. She rolled away from him, squeaking out a “Goodnight.”

Seteth watched her for a moment, frowning. The way she acted, she was probably just trying to be polite. Even though Byleth smelled like his kind, even now she looked like his kin, she was still a human in many aspects. One of those aspects was a strong preference for appearance, and with how she behaved it was evident she did not like how he had grown. Dejected, he rolled over to get some rest, his instinctual mind wandering for how he could possibly be more pleasing to her. He stifled the thoughts quickly.

  
  
  
  


Rain woke Byleth an hour later, spattering her face. The embers of the fire hissed from the droplets. She rolled over to see Seteth snoozing soundly under the canvas tarp he put up. Quietly, she moved her bedroll under the shelter, next to Seteth. He didn’t stir. The thrum of the rain against the tarp was an incessant lullaby. She wanted to get closer to him, but did not want to overstep.

She laid down, watching him for a moment. He rolled over, his face peaceful and angelic as he slept. He was so hardworking, focused, diligent. Her thoughts drifted further away as she stared at him, her face burning as she recollected how his body felt under her hands as she held onto him during their flight. She shook her head, drawing herself from those hidden desires. It was far from appropriate, he was once her student, after all. Despite him being far older than her. Still, there was work to be done and there was no time for such frivolous things.

The rain pulled her into a slumber where lascivious dreams whirled around her.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Seteth inhaled sharply, opening his eyes. The smell of rain surrounded him, with the faint hint of jasmine. He glanced down to find Byleth snuggled against his side, curled into the crook of his arm. He swallowed thickly, acknowledging the hardness in his pants.

At some point during the night it began to rain and she moved. He hadn’t noticed, being too tired from his work around the monastery to rouse. He prayed his erection would abate before she woke. As his eyes lingered on her sleeping face, it did not. Instead, those dark instincts welled inside him, growling and clawing in his chest.

The rain drummed on. He sighed and rolled over, his back to Byleth. He needed to be free of any physical signs when she awoke, or risk humiliating himself when they still had a journey ahead of them.

Byleth grumbled in her sleep, rolling against Seteth’s back. Her hand slipped over his side, clutching his chest. She murmured in her sleep, nuzzling into his back.

Seteth panicked. Blood pounded in his ears. His mind raced. He didn’t want to wake Byleth now that his erection definitely wasn’t abating. He stifled a whine as her hand began to drift down from his chest, lazily sliding towards the band of his trousers.

Seteth sat up, clearing his throat as he yanked himself away from Byleth. Byleth snapped awake, confused. He didn’t dare look back at her, his face bright red. Instead he shuffled off into the rain, hoping to walk off his shame.


	29. Northward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth and Byleth find Shamir and continue their search northward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for vanishing! Since I'm recovering, more of my time is spent doing art now that I have energy! I am migrating to a new twitter, so feel free to follow me @celestielf
> 
> I will still try to update, it just may not be as frequent.

“You’re a long way from the monastery.” The cool voice startled Seteth as he stopped to rest along the riverbank. He glanced around, listening. Only the sound of the dripping leaves reverberating through the hallows of the forest answered him. Yet he knew that voice. His hair stood on end as a shape stepped out from behind a tree.

“Shamir. It’s been a while. Good to see you.”

“I saw you were with the professor. I didn’t think she survived the battle.”

“How long have you been watching?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Long enough to see you’re not a threat. You’re looking for someone.”  
“You, actually.” He sighed, hoping she didn’t see Byleth curled up with him. “We are returning to the monastery. With the professor back and Dimitri alive, we might have a fighting chance against the Empire.”

“I see.”  
“Please, will you join us?”  
“Work out here has been dull, to say the least.” Shamir exhaled, leaning against a tree. “I suppose I can.”  
“Do you know the whereabouts of any of the others?” He asked.

“Alois never strayed too far from his family. I can see if he’ll join up.” Shamir smirked. “And as far as other leads, Catherine left the nearby town from here about a week ago to go handle some monsters in Sreng. I was under the weather so I stayed behind.”

Seteth nodded. “Thank you. I suppose I will see you back at Garreg Mach, then?”

“You will. Enjoy your alone time with the professor, Seteth.” A short chuckle followed her words as she vanished back into the forest as silent as she appeared.

Seteth’s brows knitted together. His cheeks heated. He had a lead, at least. Returning to Byleth, she was delighted to find he had encountered Shamir. Learning that the archer joined them and was returning to the monastery, Byleth’s stride skipped with confidence as they ventured North to find Catherine.

  
  


The last light of day faded over the horizon when they stopped to make camp. Byleth hummed as she rolled out her bedroll, happy with the arid climate close to Sreng. Seteth seemed oddly distant and silent that day, and she wanted to try and make him comfortable.

“Was it something I said?” She broke the silence between them as Seteth built the fire.

“What? No, of course not.” He shook his head.  
“Did Shamir say something?”  
He tensed.

“You don’t have to tell me.” She said. “I just wanted to help.”  
“You are helping enough.” Seteth smiled, turning to get his pack, pulling out some dried meat for dinner. “Please do not worry.”  
He handed her some jerky before taking his seat. Byleth moved to sit beside him. He tensed again as she joined his side. She exhaled.

“Do you think enough people will want to come back?” She asked.

“With you around, I don’t see how anyone could stay away.” Seteth chuckled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She cocked her head.

“Everyone loved you before. Surely you realized it.” Seteth replied.

“Yeah, everyone was always friendly.” Byleth reflected on her memories.

“Friendly? Did you not notice how desperate everyone was to talk to you? How flirtatious the rest of the Ashen Wolves were?” Seteth scoffed. “It was a circus.”  
Byleth’s cheeks heated. “Oh.” She swallowed thickly. “I guess I was a bit clueless.” She glanced to Seteth, hesitating. Pursing her lips, she focused her attention on finishing her food.  
“I do not know if anyone’s feelings will have changed, but surely everyone will be happy to see or hear of you being alive.” Seteth blurted. “And do not get the wrong idea about me, either! I am dedicated to my work.”

“Of course. There’s a war going on. I’m glad you always had your wits about you, Seteth. That’s why I always appreciated how honest and open you were, why I felt I could confide more in you than the others. After all, you confided in me about… well… your past and all.”

Seteth blushed.

  
  


The nights of Sreng were still cold, and again Seteth found Byleth rolling against him for warmth. A tired arm slid over her side and hooked her closer. Another sound sleep greeted him with pleasant dreams and the smell of jasmine and the sea.


	30. Cold Front

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth and Byleth find Catherine. Along their travels, a cold front passes through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the drought in posts! I have been very happily resuming artwork, which is a bit more time-consuming. Now that I have energy to draw, I will be writing a little less.  
> I am excited to announce that I have a new twitter that is mostly dedicated to fandom stuff (okay so it's all Seteth trash) now and I would appreciate you following me over there!  
> https://twitter.com/celestielf  
> Whether you like my fics or my art, I always appreciate comments and feedback-- it's really the one thing that keeps me making content! Pls talk to me I'm lonely :(

Howls and battlecries rang out over the shifting sands of Sreng. Already en route on the back of the wyvern, Byleth and Seteth spotted the scuffle just beyond a line of dunes. Catherine battled against a wolf, with three others felled nearby. They circled overhead as Catherine took down the remaining beast, then landed near her.  
“You’re a long way out.” She glanced over her shoulder, panting. She stopped when Byleth caught her eye. “You! You’re alive!” She gasped, then a hearty chuckle filled the air. “Professor! I can’t believe it, you’re okay!” Catherine rushed to her, embracing Byleth tightly.

“Catherine, it’s good to see you.” Byleth smiled, patting her back.

From over her shoulder, Seteth folded his arms, his brow furrowed. “And you, kiddo? What’s the deal?” Catherine asked.  
Seteth explained the situation and how they encountered Shamir. With the call back to the monastery, Catherine needed no convincing to head south with them. Upon reaching Gautier territory, they parted ways to seek out the other Ashen Wolves.

Byleth stretched, groaning. “We’ve been flying for hours, and I’m tired of sleeping out here. I’d kill for a hot bath.”

Seteth huffed, “We must do all we can to find our allies. We do not have time to look for inns. We must use our daylight wisely.” His warm breath billowed out into the frigid air. He scowled at Byleth as her teeth chattered. Her hands trembled as she struck her dagger against her flint to make a small fire.  
“There’s gotta be a village or inn around here somewhere. Come on, you felt the cold front move in, aren’t you freezing? What if it snows?” Byleth grumbled, finally getting some embers in her kindling. She stoked the flames with gentle breaths.

Seteth frowned. Snow was imminent if his senses didn’t betray him. While in his many years he could manage in the snow and out in the wild, he never considered that his companion may not be as accustomed to the conditions.

“Have you not camped out in winter before?”  
“Of course I have! But dad and I always had supplies, even a small convoy or packs on horses. If it was bad enough, he’d find us a place. We’re mercenaries, not wild people.” She scoffed. “Listen Seteth, until I returned to Garreg Mach, I was sleeping outside for five years.”  
He glowered at her. “One more night should not hurt.”  
She muttered under her breath, “Bastard.”

“What was that?” The bite in his question was sharp enough for him to bear his fangs. Quickly he checked himself before she looked up.

Byleth growled, “You really grew up to be a bastard, huh?” Her gaze unrelenting, full of anger.

He balled his fists at his sides. “You know I am far older--”  
“Please, in the past five years you shot up like a weed. You’re obviously not a kid like before…” She glanced away. “I figured you were temperamental and dealing with normal teenage--er--young for your kind--hormones or whatever. Now I see you’re just a cranky old ba--”  
“Enough.” He snapped. Her words ached him, but the cold also dampened his mood. “One more night and I shall compromise. When it gets late in the day tomorrow, we shall stop at the closest town.”  
Byleth was not expecting him to be as accommodating as he was. Her eyebrows shot up while her mouth shut up. A loud exhale through her nose was her only rely as she stared at the fire. Seteth went about setting up his tarp as close to the fire as reasonable, to guard them from the slow. Rolling out the bedrolls, he was meticulous about their placement, far enough apart, yet both close enough to the fire.

They went to bed without a word.

Yet over the course of the night, Byleth yet again rolled against him, and as the temperature dropped further, the bedrolls slowly rotated alongside the fire as Seteth tried to quell her shivering. The bitter winds from flying would be brutal the next day, and upon reflection, he realized he should have found an inn sooner.

  
  
  


Snow brought with it a heavy silence, muting the northern wilds with an endless thick white blanket. Seteth cracked open his eye to see the white hollow around him, illuminated by the pale light of dawn. Above, the tarp sagged with the weight of the accumulation.

As he awoke he realized three things:

His cock ached against Byleth’s ass.

His arm was wrapped around her and his hand slid under her shirt against her soft flesh.

And Byleth was very, very cold.

Still, she shivered, but only slightly. Seteth blanched, sitting up to regard her. His desire dissipated immediately as he laid eyes over her pale face and blue lips. Quickly, he slipped from his covers, taking them to wrap around her before hurrying to build the fire. The stock of wood they collected the previous evening was now wet with snow, as the wind brought a drift under the far end of the tarp.

Seteth scrambled, his heart racing as he called his wyvern over. The beast lumbered slowly, lethargic from the weather. Yet the creator flapped its wings, a sign it was confident to fly another day. Turning back to Byleth, he saw her staring back at him.

“It hurts to move, it’s too cold.”

“I am sorry. We are going to an inn.”

“Please help me.”  
“I am working on it.” He swallowed, reaching down to further wrap her in their bedrolls. He cut down the tarp, shook it off as fast as he could before packing it away in his mount’s saddlebags, then hurriedly snatched up Byleth and hoisted her up into the saddle. He maneuvered her so she was curled against him, her face away from the bite of the wind against his chest.

Taking the reins, he shrugged off the ache of the cold that he too, felt. His cheeks stung red against the wind as they dashed across the sky, eyes set on the first sign of smoke from below. Veering towards a atown nestled against a river, he sighed in relief, muttering the news to her. He didn’t know if she could hear him, her eyes closed.

He would never let this happen again.


	31. Blizzard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth almost freezes and Seteth finds a place for them to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED!
> 
> Back again after a long time, I've been feeling better so I'm drawing more and writing less. I want to apologize for an inconsistencies in advance, I can't remember much but I'd still like to keep this going.

Fragmented voices and urgent tones whirled around Byleth like the winter wind. Ice clumped over her lashes melted like tears down her cheek. Her consciousness flickered, waking her in time with the crackle of a small fire visible through the open door of a wood stove. She was still cold, a thrumming residing chill in her bones. Her movement was restricted by the amount of blankets she was wrapped in, and she resigned herself to her cozy fate.

She was alone.

Voices chattered behind her, but none she could make sense of. She realized she was in the corner of a kitchen, and she was resting near an oven. The scent of baked breads and spices invaded her sniffling nose. Her thoughts were fogged, but the world was returning to her piece by piece.

Green entered her peripheral. “Byleth?” Seteth’s voice came. “Are you alright?”

“Cold.” She muttered.

“Not yet.” Came another voice. Familiar but distant. “It is not healthy like that. The sudden change can shock her body.”  
“Mercedes?” Byleth murmured.

“Hello Professor.” Came the wispy voice. “I’ve made you some tea, but you need to wake up a little more first.”  
“Thank you Mercedes. I never expected to find you here.”  
“This town needed a healer and I was passing through at the right time. You’re lucky I was out today on errands or I wouldn’t have come to the inn. But what were you doing out here? And… I thought the Professor was…”  
“Somehow, she survived the battle five years ago and just popped up. We were out looking to find friends. These grievous times have left us with little option but to fight. The Professor isn’t the only one who rose from the dead. Dimitri survived as well.” Seteth explained, further going into detail about Dimitri and the state of things at the monastery.

“Would you join us?” Byleth croaked out.

“I suppose it’s something to consider… After this blizzard passes.” Mercedes sighed. She knelt next to Byleth, helping her sit up. As she handed her a cup of tea, Seteth dismissed himself, muttering about getting a room for them through the storm.

  
  
  
  


“How could I be so dense?” Seteth cursed himself, storming out of the kitchen to the bar. The innkeeper greeted him warmly, asking about Byleth. “She’s doing fine, but we’ll probably need rooms for the duration of the storm.”

The Innkeeper frowned. “Rooms?”

“One for each of us.”  
“With this storm we’re full up. Though if you don’t mind it, I suppose I could let you stay in the attic. There’s an old bed up there, and you may have to move aside some of the stuff I have stored up there. I’ll give it to you at a discount, though.”

Seteth exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Very well then.”  
Moments later, he found himself coughing as he beat the mattress free of its dust and changed the bedding in the attic. The Innkeeper shoved aside crates and boxes, wiping down an old trunk for them to use as a nightstand and chair. Lamps were brought in and set aside to illuminate the dingy space. The chimney on the far wall allowed for more heat to circulate in the attic, keeping it cozy.

When Byleth stabilized, Mercedes left, offering to check up on them after the blizzard passed. Byleth, still weak from the ordeal, struggled to walk. Seteth grew impatient, scooping her up and carrying her.

The movement was swift, catching her off guard. “What are you doing?” She shrieked.

“I am tired of having to watch after you. All I want is to go to bed already.” Seteth growled.

“Well this wouldn’t have happened if you had just opted to stay at an inn in the first place!” She snapped. “Your stubbornness almost killed me!”  
“How was I supposed to know it would get this bad? I told you that we’d go to an inn in the morning and here we are!” He reached the attic, nearly kicking the door down.

Byleth glared at the room as if it were a cesspit. “Too little too late.” She muttered. Seteth dropped her onto the bed, then plopped himself down on the trunk across from her.

“Well the rest of the rooms are full. Sorry this isn’t good enough,  _ Professor _ .” He hissed, refusing to meet her eyes.

With a huff, she rolled over, throwing the covers over her head. After some time, her breathing steadied. Seteth watched her, resting his chin on his fist. He was furious, at her attitude, at the situation. His heart hadn’t stopped thundering until he was certain she was asleep. His mind raced, worried that she wouldn’t want to cooperate with him after this. What would come of the war effort if they couldn’t manage? Guilt constricted his throat as he cursed himself yet again for almost losing her.

His eyelids were heavy and his head nodded. Seteth slumped forward and found rest atop the trunk.

  
  
  
  


Byleth rolled over, waking up. Seeing Seteth still sitting up and sleeping, the sight pulled at her. With a sigh she rolled out of bed. She reached over and pulled an exhausted Seteth into bed, rolling back away from him. She muttered a phrase of pity before finding sleep once again.

  
  
  
  


Seteth woke up with Byleth sleeping on top of him in the bed. Bewildered of how he got there, he resigned himself to his fate. In his waking haze he watched her, studying her face as she slept peacefully on the rise and fall of his breathing. A deep yearning clawed at his gut, warming his cheeks. The warmth radiated lower and lower.

He dreaded her waking now. Sure it had been a while since he transformed, but that wild feeling pulled at him yet again. Panic set in as he struggled to stifle it. Praying to the goddess that he could contain himself until after they’d left the inn.


	32. Heat Rises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth and Byleth settle in to wait out the blizzard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my something spicy this way comes
> 
> btw follow me on twitter  
> https://twitter.com/celestielf

“It’s stupid. Stop listening to your hormones. It’s just the Professor. Use reason.” Seteth muttered, pacing in the tavern of the Inn. Byleth was bathing and kicked him out after they both woke up. She was still weary, but at least she didn’t mention anything about how he ended up in the bed last night.

The Innkeeper called to him, “Hungry?”  
Seteth had been ignoring the growling in his stomach for a day and a half. The bowl of stew the innkeeper slid across the bar was too much to resist. Grumbling, he sat down and ate ravenously, devouring the bread and whatever else the Innkeeper slid his way.

“I suppose your friend is probably hungry too, hm?” The Innkeeper asked.

“Yes, could I bring some up to her?” He replied.  
The Innkeeper nodded, preparing a tray. “You know when you first arrived I thought you two were married.”  
“M-married?” Seteth choked.

“Yeah. With the way you acted, and then the way you looked at her. I figured--”  
“No!” Seteth cut him off, then cleared his throat, levelling his tone. “No. We are… colleagues.” His face burned red.

“Uh huh.”

Seteth glared at the innkeeper, snatching up the tray of food and leaving without a word. Still the exchange ate away at him. Surely it was just hormones. It was nothing consequential. He had to cast these feelings aside. And after almost letting her freeze, his chances with her were probably as high as the temperature outside.

  
  
  
  


Byleth dried off her hair, refreshed from the warm bath that the innkeeper had drawn for her. Tired, she took her time, enjoying the attic to herself. She glanced over to the dusty mirror in the corner of the room, obscured partially by boxes. Even when wet her hair was bright green, vibrant even in the dim lamplight.

“Byleth, I brought you--” Seteth opened the door, looking up from the tray in his arms.

She froze. His eyes grew wide.

“Can’t you knock?!” She shrieked, picking up a boot and hurling it at him while simultaneously covering herself with the towel. With a curse, a red-faced Seteth ducked out of the room as she slammed the door shut behind him.

Her moment alone interrupted, Byleth hastily dressed as a slew of swears poured from her lips. When she was finished, she finally bade him enter with a sigh.

“I just wanted to bring you food, I figured you would be ready--”  
“I was taking my time.” She huffed, staring him down as he set the tray on the trunk. He avoided her gaze, his face red. “You certainly got an eyeful, didn’t you?” She snorted.

“N-no! Not at all. Please I just wanted to check in on you.” Seteth turned and hurried to the door.  
Byleth groaned. “Do you want to join me? I’m sure you’re starving…” She gestured to the food.

Seteth glanced over his shoulder, “No thank you, I have eaten already.”

The door slammed behind him.

Byleth heaved a sigh and ate. Seteth’s wide eyes and red face flashed through her mind, bringing a blush to her cheeks. She quickly shoved the thought away.

“Idiot. He was one of your students! Sure he’s grown now… and technically a lot older than you… and you’ve been literally sleeping next to him… Don’t get carried away. It’s all just because of the circumstances.” She tore into her bread. “Besides… He nearly let you freeze! He’s a jerk!”

  
  
  
  


Seteth exhaled. His blood ran hot, and his skin prickled as the dragon threatened to come out. He was hard, frustrated, and the image of naked Byleth was burned into his mind. Halfway down the hall he realized his erection would not abate, and slumped against the wall, cursing.

“Calm down. You can’t transform here. You can’t just run off in the middle of a blizzard, either.” He growled. Yet the unmistakable scent of his heat shrouded him. “Just hold out a little longer.”

He went for a walk outside. Snow continued its relentless pour over the landscape, thick accumulations hung over rooftops that barely marked the border between ground and sky. He didn’t stray far, just enough to know when the inn would disappear from view if he dared go further. Few souls were out, and the smell of woodsmoke hung in the silent air. At last he calmed himself, embracing the cool as it staved off his heat.

  
  
  


“You were gone for quite a while.” Byleth looked him over, noting the melting flakes on his shoulders. She sat at the bar, watching a local bard sing hunting songs to other travellers. Seteth stood in the doorway, hesitant, until the Innkeeper barked at him to close the door.

“I needed fresh air.” He replied flatly, joining her side. She tensed, watching him. “Something wrong?”  
Byleth quickly looked away, “Nothing.”

It stung as if she were outright rejecting him. “I’m going to bed. Would you prefer I sleep on the floor, or I can move when you decide to turn in?”  
“Don’t worry about it.” She replied, keeping her attention elsewhere.

With a huff, he left.

Seteth smelled good. Really good. Maybe it was the smell of woodsmoke he brought in with him from outside. But something about him was utterly pleasant, provocatively appealing, and disgustingly alluring. Ashamed, she avoided his gaze. It was all just bitter circumstance, she concluded.

Yet when she opened the door to find him asleep in bed, she couldn’t help but curl up next to him, resting her head in the crook of his neck, as if something wild were driving her there to inhale him.


	33. Scales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth struggles with his instincts. Byleth gets an eyeful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SETETH IS A DRAGON WITH A GIANT DRAGON COCK and it's FUCKING SPOOKY

Seteth’s dreams were of Byleth naked. She had infiltrated every crevice of his mind and now his unconscious mind was overrun. He groaned, an insatiable ache eating away at him like a wildfire. The primal urge would not let him rest, pulling at him, tearing him apart. He sat up, breathing heavy. His skin prickled again, the waves of heat rolling off of him.

A whimper startled him. Byleth rolled over, away from him. Her smell hit him like a meteor. His heart pounded as he threw himself out of bed. Her scent was unmistakable. He wondered since she had changed and returned from the void if she was more like him. Now he couldn’t deny it. Had his heat triggered hers?

What was worse was that this heat was so intense, he hadn’t felt this way in five years. He could not hold off the transformation any longer, but at least he had decent room in the attic. Quickly he disrobed, hoping to leave his things intact for when he resumed his human form.

“What are you doing?” A sleepy Byleth murmured from across the room.

“I… I can not really explain. Just please forgive me.”  
Byleth sat up, her shadow shifting in the darkness until one of the oil lamps was lit. Her eyes bore into him as he stood naked before her. Her breath hitched and she froze.

Seteth doubled over, grunting. The discomfort and ache from his dream was a warning sign. Scales rippled over his skin, and wings tore free from his back. He collapsed to the floor, panting. Claws protruded from his hands and feet. He prayed that this wouldn’t last long, but as the shift continued his senses grew keener and Byleth’s smell became irresistible.  
“I think… you should leave me. Byleth, I am so sorry to do this. I cannot help it.”  
Byleth scrambled out of bed to his side. She reached out to touch his arm. He flinched away as if she were made of fire.

“Go, please. I promise I will make it up to you, but for now, you need to stay away.”  
“Is this…” Byleth lowered her voice to a whisper, “Cichol?”  
His name on her lips had him lost. The world blurred around him as the beast inside was freed. At least he was safe locked away in the room. The sound of Byleth leaving was comfort enough. Part of him longed for her to stay.

He lumbered over to the bed, where their scents were strongest. Leaning into the bed, the structure creaked as the now giant dragon wedged himself into the covers, rolling around and situating his new nest. There was a groan of wood and the bed collapsed, but the beast no longer cared, inhaling the scent of Byleth on the sheets and purring loudly.

His cock was hard, dribbling as he rolled around in the bed, chasing his instincts for relief. His wild thoughts imagined Byleth sprawled under him, yielding to him as he sank his cock into her. He hummed, cantering his hips into nothing.

  
  


Byleth trembled, back against the door as a very large dragon shuffled around inside the attic behind her. How long would this last? What should she do? She couldn’t just reveal to the innkeeper that her roommate was a dragon.

And something inside of her wanted so desperately to go back to him. That smell was so delicious and it only made her dreams more pleasant. Not that she would admit to any of them, but something about it made her think of him in ways she didn’t dare before.  
“Get a hold of yourself.” She muttered. “He can’t help this. He needs help.” A crash from inside the attic startled her. She leaned against the door, listening. A low rumble emanated from the room. She swallowed, wondering what was going on the other side of the door.

With a deep breath, Byleth got up and went downstairs.

Hours later, around midday, she braved going back upstairs to bring Seteth food. When asked about him, she replied he was feeling ill after his walk yesterday, which was entirely truthful as far as she was concerned.

A cautious knock on the door, “Seteth? It’s me. I wanted to bring you food.” The irresistible smell of him lingered outside the door. When he didn’t reply, she entered, opening to door to be overwhelmed with the heavenly scent. “Oh my. Who knew dragons smelled so good.” She chuckled, kicking the door closed behind her and setting down the tray to light a lamp. Holding it up she finally got a clear view of him.

A beautiful white dragon with a green mane and tufts of fur on his legs and tail snoozed on the broken bed. She took a step closer, and a low rumble crescendoed from the beast’s throat.

“Whoa, easy there.” She said, as if she were calming her father’s horse. She approached him slowly, reaching out a hand to touch one of his pearly wings. “Seteth, are you hungry? Are you going to be alright? You did a number to the bed--”

When her hand touched his wing, he groaned and shifted, rolling over. An eye peeked open at her as a scaly arm reached out and pulled her into his chest. She squeaked in surprise, still gawking at the creature around her.  
“You’re… purring?” She realized, feeling the vibration in his throat. The sound immediately grew lounder. “It’s kinda nice in her--oh my goddess what is _that_?” She gasped, her eyes wandering down over his scaly body. Between his legs was a massive upright dragon cock. Byleth blanched, immediately pulling away from him. Seteth made an indignant sound that warbled his purring, pawing at her.

“Seteth, you… I think I need to go. Your food is over there. Just… try to figure out how to change back soon, okay?” She swallowed, her eyes glued to his length as she backed away slowly.

He snorted, rolling to his feet. A single bound had him looming over her, his snout in her face, sniffing her. Seteth nudged her, giving a small lick to her face. She looked up at his his eyes which seemed dazed. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, mirroring his dripping cock between his legs.  
“A-alright there dragon boy.” She patted him, but it was more of a shove so she could slip back out the door into the hallway.

  
  
  


Internally, sensible Seteth fought tooth and nail against his urges, grappling with his sanity to return to his human form. The beast, on the other hand, was stupidly happy to bask in Byleth’s scent. And when she came to visit, it took everything he had to make sure he was well-behaved.

Though as his conscious thoughts returned, he wasn’t quite sure what was real and what was fiction in the blur of the past day. The familiar pain and burn flared, and he ejaculated, soiling the sheets. Then the world began to clear again. The scent was still there, stronger than ever. The burn was ever present, but diminished to a dull throb. His body cracked and shifted, slowly turning back to himself. He drifted to sleep, exhausted from the ordeal, sprawled naked on the bed and coated with a sheet of sweat.

At some point he awoke, and Byleth was standing over him, staring.

“What happened?” He wheezed.

“You… don’t remember?”  
“I know I shifted, and I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t… do anything rash.” He swallowed, his throat dry. Byleth handed him a cup of tea.

“You were a dragon. I guess you have trouble controlling it.” She glanced down for a moment, reminding Seteth that he was nude.

He scrambled to throw the sheets over his lap. “My apologies.”  
“Now we’re even.” She muttered, pacing over and plopping down on the trunk. “Don’t worry, you were fine. You purred like a kitten.”  
Seteth blanched. He didn’t know what she meant or how long she hung around, or even if she did anything. He didn’t dare hypothesize.

“Well. I shall dress and then go--”  
“You’re not going anywhere. It’s the middle of the night. Everyone’s asleep.”  
“And you?”  
“Well, I came up to check since everyone had gone to bed. Of course, with the bed like it is…”  
“Sorry.”  
“It’s fine. I’ll sleep on the floor.”  
“No, please. Let me clean this up.” He pulled up the bedding and moved aside. Grabbing his trousers, he quickly threw them on then threw his cloak over the bed. “Will this suffice?”  
“Ah sure.” Byleth took her place on the bed, and Seteth sat across from her on the trunk. “You’re not coming?”  
“I--”  
“I would like to sleep with you.” She blurted. “Er… not like-- you know what I meant!” She huffed, rolling over with her back to him.  
He grinned, sliding into bed next to her.

She still smelled of her heat, but Seteth managed to contain himself, aside from the purring.


	34. The Transformation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth is literally driving Byleth wild.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DRAGON BYLETH DRAGON BYLETH
> 
> and Seteth being a gentlemen :) WHOLESOME
> 
> horny dragons are horny but ain't nothing gonna happen

“It would be stupid to leave now.” Seteth pinched the bridge of his nose. He lie on his back, staring up at the attic ceiling.

Byleth hadn’t left her position, snuggled against him. “But it’s stopped snowing!” She glanced up to the window on the far wall. Clear sky greeted them through it.  
“It’s still far too cold, and if we land, we have to deal with the consequences of wading through deep snow.”

She huffed, conceding.  
Every muscle in his body was tensed like a drawn bowstring. “Do you mind?” Seteth’s eyes met hers. His lip curled as if disgusted, the smell of her heat still overwhelming.

“Hm?” She gave a lazy smile.

“Get. Off.” He growled.

She blinked a few times, then threw herself out of bed, quickly putting distance between them. “Sorry. I don’t know--”  
“Look, we’ll wait it out a few days more then head back. It will be warming up soon.”  
“So what do you suggest in the meantime?” She crossed her arms.  
“I’m going to check on the wyvern. Why don’t you… I don’t know… do whatever you would normally do at an inn.”  
“Drink. At least that’s what dad did.”  
“Ugh, fine. Go drink. Just don’t run up too much of a tab.” Seteth waved her off. “I’ll try to explain to the innkeeper what happened to the bed.”

  
  
  
  


Byleth couldn’t stop thinking about Seteth. As if the past few days weren’t stressful enough, she couldn’t help but find him irresistible. It defied all reason. She was frustrated. This trip was long and awkward enough but now her mind was only focused on one thing. Reason was fleeting, and she tried desperately to rein in her imagination.  
Her solution was to learn by Jeralt’s example and drink.

She sat in the corner of the inn at a table by the fire, brooding over a flagon of ale. When Seteth came down to chat with the innkeeper, she couldn’t help but stare at him. He leaned over the bar, chuckling nervously as he explained the situation in the attic.

The innkeeper’s response was to burst out laughing as they glanced across the room to Byleth.

Seteth sputtered, denying it and turning bright red, but the innkeeper wasn’t buying, waving him off as they went to fetch a bundle of clean linens. Seteth pursed his lips, a silent line of disapproval across his countenance as he took the bundle and disappeared back upstairs.

Byleth downed the rest of her ale with a swear. “All of Fodlan will think we’re fucking.” She muttered under her breath.

  
  


After spending the day out in the stables tending to his wyvern, Seteth returned to find Byleth slumped over the table she was at earlier that day, with a handful of empty flagons around her. Groaning, he shuffled over to her and shook her shoulder.  
“Byleth, are you okay?” He asked.  
“Mmmph.” Her head lolled to the side, an eye peering open. “You. Leave me ‘lone.”

“You idiot. You drank too much.” He sighed. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.” He pulled her to her feet, hoisting her up against his shoulder. “Honestly, do I have to babysit you this entire time?”

“Shuddup.” She slurred. “Yer too pretty.” She snorted, stumbling up the stairs.

Seteth rolled his eyes, maneuvering her to the attic. Byleth lumbered through the door before him, pulling at her clothes. When Seteth turned around after closing and locking the door behind him, he saw Byleth stripping down to her underclothes.  
“What are you doing?”  
“C’mere.” She whirled around, beckoning him with a smirk.  
“Byleth, please keep your clothes on.” Seteth sighed, crossing the room and placing his hands on her shoulder. She leaned into him with a deep breath, her eyes fluttering closed.  
“Mmm, you smell so… _sexy._ ”  
“Byleth, you’re drunk. Please go lay down.” He guided her to the bed.  
“You have no right suddenly being so hot.”  
“You probably wouldn’t listen if I explained it to you, but it’s really just hormones.”  
With a wry smirk, Byleth slipped her fingers under the fabric of her smallclothes and attempted to pull them off. “Oh I can be a who--”  
“Nope! Absolutely not.” Seteth snapped, grabbing her wrist to stay her hand. “Just lay here and go to sleep, and you’ll deal with the consequences of this foolishness in the morning.” As he helped her down, Byleth suddenly swung her arm over his neck and hooked her leg around his hips, yanking him down over her. “Byleth!”  
“Shhh… no one has to know.” She giggled, placing a finger over his lips. Seteth felt the burn in his face and heat rise within him. “I want to--”  
“Go to sleep.”  
“You know that’s not what I was gonna say--”  
“I don’t care.” He growled.  
She huffed, pouting. “You’re so stuck up.”  
“You’re drunk, Byleth. I would never--”  
“Jerk.”  
Seteth bit his lip. She turned her attention across the room, disappointment scrawled over her face. Before he knew what he was doing, his eyes were roaming over her as if she were a feast. He swallowed thickly.  
“You gotta be such a prude. Not… even…” She was drifting now. “Not even… a kiss…” She muttered, finally asleep.  
“Goodnight, Byleth.” He murmured, pushing himself back to his feet and shuffling across the room. He leaned against the door with a sigh, sliding down to sit on the floor. “You’re just drunk and filled with hormones. We’re both in heat. We can’t do anything rash.” His fingernails bit into his palms, his hands shaking. “Goddess, you’re insufferable. Why you, of all people?” He groaned, banging the back of his head against the door in frustration.

  
  


Byleth groaned as the attic door closed, the sound ringing in her ears. The gentle sound of a tray being set on the trunk thundered against her eardrums. Her eyes shot open as Seteth’s smell accompanied by the scent of tea, fresh bread, and sausage greeted her.  
“What time is it?” She groaned.  
“I let you sleep in. It’s noon now.” He replied, his voice soft.

She looked to him and then to the breakfast he brought for her. “Thanks.”  
“Please don’t drink like that again.” Annoyance clear in his tone.  
She reached for the tea, realizing she was only in her smallclothes. She quickly withdrew to the cover of the sheets, probing her mind for memories of the previous night.

“What happened last night?”  
“You were drunk, nearly passed out downstairs. You managed to get up and come back here, only to pass out once more. I hope you enjoyed yourself.”  
She studied him for a moment. No, he wouldn’t have touched her. She had a tendency of preferring less layers when inebriated, and the fact that she was still in her smallclothes and didn’t embarrass herself by undressing completely was a miracle. Still, a small pang inside her had her core heating.

“I’ll take it easy on the ale, then.” She grumbled, shoveling a sausage into her mouth, followed quickly by a gulp of tea.

Seteth rolled his eyes.

“I’d rather not have to babysit you. I’m not your mother.”

“I didn’t ask you to baby me.” She snarled, her mouth still full.  
“And if I didn’t, you’d probably be dead.” He hissed.  
“You’re insufferable.”  
“And you aren’t? You were the one who got drunk.”  
“And you’re the one who got us stuck here in the first place!”  
“As soon as we get back, I expect you to keep your distance.”  
“It won’t be a problem. It's easy to avoid someone with such a stench.” She mocked.

He raised an eyebrow. “Stench?”

She scoffed, “I don’t know what it is. Until a few days ago everything was fine. Now I just… It’s not the soap here at the inn, either.”  
“Is it… unpleasant?” The self-consciousness in his tone was evident, instantly making Byleth regret her words. The heat in her core steadily grew to a flame. She swallowed thickly, suppressing the distracting thoughts.  
“Well, not exactly… I just meant that it’s strong.” She glanced away, muttering under her breath, “It’s not that bad.”  
“I’m worried people will notice, though they never really have. It’s just… a dragon thing. No need to concern yourself. I just wonder how you are able to--”  
“Look, don’t worry about it. If people aren’t complaining, then there’s nothing to fret.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m hungover. It sucks here. I want to go back.”  
“Me too.”  
“I’m-- arg. Shit.” She doubled over, a sudden ache throbbing through her body. Her skin tingled.

Seteth straightened. “What’s wrong?”  
“I think maybe the food? No… ah.” The room was unreasonably warm, her face flushed. Those sensuous thoughts crept forth from the crevices of her mind, driving away her hangover with a new ache. Desire ran rampant over her body.  
Seteth froze. “Byleth…”  
“Why?” She grunted. Her skin prickled over her arms, and glancing down, she saw tiny ivory scales begin to surface over her flesh. Horrified, she shrieked. “What’s this?”

Seteth could only stare in shock. Before him, Byleth was growing scales, and her back bulged with the promise of wings. A tail began to slither from the base of her spine. She collapsed onto the floor, then crawled across the room toward the dusty mirror to see her features morph.

“What’s happening?”  
“I… can’t believe it.” He whispered.  
She whirled around to regard him, her pupils shifting into slits, which dilated and retracted, then dilated once more. “Seteth.” Her breath was hot and heavy as she took a step towards him. He pressed his back against the door.  
“You’ll have to stay in here. I’ll keep watch.” Seteth said quickly.

“I want…”  
“I know what you want.” He hissed, meeting her gaze. “Please, do not give in. Just ride it out.”  
She stopped, panting. “It’s… it’s so hard.” She gritted her teeth, now elongated to fangs. “You… endured this the other day.”  
“I did. And I managed to control it. Who knows how long you’ll be like this.” Seteth dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m guessing you’ve never done this before.”  
“No.”  
“Just… lay there. You will be fine.”

She grunted.

Except she wasn’t fine. She was unbearably horny and the beast she was becoming was letting her know it was in charge, and relentless in reminding her that she--or at least her body-- wanted desperately to fuck Seteth. When he left the room, she prowled to the door, raking her claws down the wood as she basked in his lingering scent. This wild Byleth struggled, and the previous Byleth soon lost herself to the beast.

  
  
  


Thankfully Seteth knew when to make himself scarce. Spending much of the day in the inn or at the stables, he knew being too close to Byleth during this time could be catastrophic in countless ways. Telling the innkeeper she was now ill was all the convincing they needed to stay away.

Late in the evening, when everyone had gone to bed, Seteth brought up a tray of food for Byleth, leaving it on the trunk. Dragon Byleth slept soundly on the bed, undisturbed. Seteth opted to sleep in the common area of the inn, nursing his unease with a bottle of mead.

He repeated the actions for two more days, until Byleth showed signs of her old self returning. Her consciousness fighting back against the dragon hormones, her eyes were bright when he came to check on her a few mornings later. It was then that he figured out that she could understand him and was no longer as feral as she had been those past days. She showed a surprising amount of restraint as she sat on the bed across the room from him while he explained the nature of his kind, and the details of their untimely situation.

Byleth accepted the terms of the situation with some difficulty and disappointment, but he assured her that when they returned, Flayn could better assist her with an explanation, since he had only skirted the fact that they triggered each other’s heats, which was a rare instance indeed.


End file.
